Changes
by Aramina89
Summary: When Rosalie Marcum moves to Seattle she vows to make a new start, to take control and make some changes. Her first brave adventure doesn't quite go as planned, but is certain to change her world forever. Jacob/OC.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so, this part fits here… and… yeah okay I think that's right… Why do they make these things so complicated? Why couldn't I have done the sensible thing and bought one of those tents that pop up automatically? After what feels like hours and several near misses in which poles and pegs could have easily taken out eyes, I finally stand back and admire my handiwork. Granted the orange, waterproof monstrosity is probably a little lop-sided, but I guess seeing as it's only me it's not like it matters much. I pull out my mobile from my back pocket and take one of those awkward self-photos, my arm bent at an angle to fit in my goofy face and thumbs up standing in front of my tent. It's completely necessary. If I don't have photographic proof everyone at home will never believe that I popped my camping cherry all alone, out in some random woods. This is just another step in my year of brand new, scary change.

I hopped over the North Atlantic to Seattle six months ago in what can only be described as a bit of a rushed decision. After my last relationship fell apart I decided drastic change was needed. I guess that involves moving half way around the world on your own, or at least it did for me. Thankfully, being my practical self, I still managed to secure myself a job and a pokey flat before doing a runner. It could be worse.

By the time I've moved all my things into my tent, leaving the small clearing surrounding it free of clutter, the sun is going down and I can feel spots of rain landing on my cheeks. I stoop inside quickly, zip up the zip and jump straight into my sleeping bag. Grabbing a chocolate bar from my little stash of goodies, intended to keep my spirits high during this close encounter with nature, I lean back and watch drops of rain slide along the roof of the tent. This isn't so bad. Layers, that's the key, and plenty of extra water for essential personal hygiene maintenance the morning.

I pull out my phone and attempt to send a text to my friend David, the only person I know who's not in a completely different time-zone. When I crossed over the border to Calgary a few weeks ago to visit, he had tried his best to talk me out of solo camping in the woods, doing his usual over-protective act. Maybe a reassuring text to let him know I'm still alive will calm his nerves. Nope, no signal. Ah well. I snuggle myself down further into my sleeping bag, discard my chocolate wrapper and close my eyes.

Christ! What was that?! I lie completely still in my sleeping bag, not daring to move, as I listen closely. The silence of the night outside is rudely broken by the hoot of an owl, which from its volume, I presume is very nearby. I'm so relieved that all my breath comes rushing out in one, finally regaining control of my body and pulling my arms out of my sleeping bag and holding my head. Stupid woman, of course it's only an owl. I'm in a forest, these kinds of noises are to be expected. It's only once I've calmed down that I realise how much I need the toilet. I really, really don't want to go outside, but as I can't seem to get rid of my persistent wriggling I realise that it's inevitable. I didn't bring any extra bottles for one. I grope around for my torch, slip on my trainers and coat and head outside, pulling my hood on tight to keep out the rain.

It's so dark out here. The only things I can see are illuminated in its small circle of light so I point it straight out at the floor to avoid the numerous fallen branches and mounds of moss just waiting to trip me. I only head into fifteen feet or so, and, well, do my business, the torch clutched between my chin and chest. Damn it! The torch crashes to the floor and flickers off, plunging me into darkness. Oh god, I hope it hasn't landed in my pee. I groan, bending down and groping around for it in the black. The leaves and moss are squishy beneath my fingers, soaked through from the pouring rain.

Holy hell! I stumble backward, my ears ringing, eyes searching frantically in the darkness for whatever just howled. Shit, shit! That came from the clearing! I listen closely, my hearing seeming to increase ten-fold with my eyes rendered blind. I hear rustling, lots of rustling. My feet start to carry me forward against my will, griped by a morbid curiosity. I cling to each tree in the darkness, creeping closer to the edge of the clearing until I can make out the dim glow of my tent light. More rustling and animal sounds, almost dog like, and as I squint I make out an outline against orange fabric. Wolves. A whole pack of them, rooting around, circling my tent, padding in and out of the entrance I stupidly left unzipped.

Adrenaline makes my heart feel like it's going to break out of my chest and I clutch the nearest tree tightly trying to calm my palpitations until I the course bark starts to hurt my hands. It's only when the wolves stop rooting and lift their heads in my direction do I realise that my breathing is loud and laboured from fear. I may as well have pointed myself out with a neon sign. As they start to pad towards me and I find myself paralysed once again, I can't help but yell at myself in my head for not paying more attention to David. What's the use in being brave and adventurous if you end up dead the first time you try? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

A loud crash, the ripping sound of a tree being felled, comes from booming across the clearing and it's not only me that automatically lowers to the floor. The wolves turn from me and head towards the faceless, ferocious growling as I feel terrified tears start to pour down my face. Somehow I don't think that whatever is freaking out the wolves is any less likely to rip me apart. A wolf, three times the size of each in the pack, lunges from the dark and attacks its smaller brothers. As one wolf crumples against my tent, my hearing turns fuzzy and dots appear in front of my eyes.

I hit the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

"… don't see why you had to bring her here…" Ow."… just put her back in the tent…" Ow. Oh god ow.

"… and get eaten? Yeah, right." My face. My face really, really hurts. Who the hells talking? This place is comfy… "Shut up, she's waking up." Why is it so hot here? And why can't I move my arm? As I try to open my eyes whoever was talking falls silent and all I can hear is my own groaning. Has the world gotten brighter? My visions swerve and blurs as two faces start to form above my own. I'm in bed, who's bed am I in?!

"Hi there." The round face to my left smiles down at me with slightly crooked teeth. Boy, he's tanned.

"Where am I?" I croak. I try to shift my weight to sit up but I can't. I'm so thirsty. "Why can't I move?"

"La Push," the face to my right answers gently. I turn my head to face him, trying to ignore the twinge in my shoulder and then thank the lord that I'm already kind out of it, that way they might excuse me drooling. This guy, wow. I think I've died and gone to heaven. Small, chocolate brown eyes gaze down at me, framed by the most perfect bone structure I think I've ever seen. High cheekbones, a strong jaw, short and dark tousled hair, the slightest hint of stubble. This guy is a nice piece of work.

I think he mistakes my awestruck expression for confusion because he starts to rub the back of his neck, looking awkward. "Down by the coast…. I found you in the woods." All my memory from the previous night comes flooding back, needing to pee, the darkness and the wolves. That wolf. How on earth am I alive? Tanned guy number one returns to the bedside holding a glass of water which he holds out to me. I try to take it with my dominant left hand and I'm rewarded with shooting pains all the way up to my shoulder, making me grit my teeth. I'd rather not be seen whimpering in front of complete strangers. I peel back the covers with my good hand to find my left arm wrapped up in a sling.

"My arm…"

"Sprained pretty bad," number one explains with a shrug. I try to sit myself up again by pushing with my right hand and number two comes to my aid, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling gently, moving me with complete ease. This guy definitely, definitely lifts. As I take the water, number two reaches behind me and starts to rearrange my pillows. His close proximity draws my attention to how hot he is, and this time I'm not talking about his chiselled good looks. He's actually hot, scorching. As I sip my water, leaning back onto my newly fluffed pillows, I try to think of what you're supposed to say in this kind of situation. No pressure, of course, not when two strangers are staring at you expectantly and one of them looks like he's straight off the runway. A quick glance around the room shows it to be small and messy, obviously a very masculine looking room. Suddenly I can't help but wonder how long ago these sheets were changed.

"Did you see any wolves?" I blurt out. The two men exchange the swiftest of looks across me, before number two smiles (oh my god, that smile) and shakes his head.

"No, no wolves. I found you this morning when I was out walking by the clearing just off 101." He hesitates, putting his hands into his pockets and shrugging. "Your camp was… pretty wrecked though." He rocks back and forth on his heels and the other guy interjects.

"There are wolves around here though, so, yeah, it's not surprising you saw some." He pauses, "That is what happened isn't it? You… er… saw some wolves? Passed out?"

"Not just some, it was a whole pack! And then there was one that was really, really huge…" Another glance at each other. Great, they think I'm crazy. Taking another sip of my drink, I suddenly realise how thoroughly un-chewed I am. "How am I not eaten if you didn't find me until morning?"

"Maybe you smell bad?" number one offers and I scowl at him. At least he has the graces to blush.

"Well, you did hit your head pretty hard," my Adonis answers, gesturing towards me, "Maybe it was the whole… play dead… thing." I guess that makes sense. Kind of.

"If it weren't for the fact that my first ever camping trip has ended disastrously, I might have said that I've been lucky," I chuckle to myself. The tanned two just smile in reply. "So… I'm sorry but… who are you?"

"Oh, you can call me Quil," the one to my left replies.

"I'm Jacob Black," says the other, offering me his hand. I take it all too readily and shake, enjoying the way his massive hand enfolds mine in squeezing warmth. I think he must hold on a little too long, because Quil coughs and Jacob almost jumps, letting my hand fall back to the bed.

"Jacob undressed you," Quil quips, looking incredibly pleased with himself when Jacob's cheeks pink in embarrassment, much likely matching my own. How could I not have noticed that I'm in a stranger's bed in just my underwear? Well, let's face it; this isn't the first time that's ever happened.

"Yeah… uh… your clothes were soaked when I found you." I just stare back, too embarrassed at the thought of this gorgeous man having seen me almost naked, completely unconscious. "You know… because of the rain," he explains further, looking embarrassed too. He turns and picks up a rucksack I recognise as my own. "I got your stuff from the tent so you've got clean clothes. Your others are drying by the fire, too." He pauses. "Sorry."

"It's you I feel sorry for, having to see that," I laugh, trying to make light of a situation that is rapidly getting more awkward by the second. Jacob just starts rubbing the back of his neck again, avoiding Quil's beaming, inane smile. "I'm Rosalie, by the way," I announce, "Or Ros… whatever."

"Lovely to meet you," Quil replies smoothly.

"Yeah… yeah…" Don't be too enthusiastic there Jacob, you might explode. He can't seem to look at me anymore. Oh god, was I really that hideous? I mean I know there was some indulgence over Christmas, but surely I haven't ballooned that much have I? "We'll leave you to get dressed, or rest, or… whatever."

"Okay, thanks…" Jacob practically pushes Quil towards the door and as the door is pulled closed I'm sure I hear some angry hissing behind it that gradually disappears, until all I can hear is a faint tick of a clock.

This totally wasn't how I expected this trip to go. I thought I'd just spend one night in the forest, get some evidence and go home to my comfy, warm flat. Then again, I suppose I should be grateful. I'm alive, for one, and I've met possibly the most gorgeous man on the entire planet.

This was supposed to be the year of changes and adventure... I guess this is it.


	3. Chapter 3

I try to take Jacob's suggestion and get some rest, but every time I close my eyes all I get is flashes of the night before, that massive wolf, the feel of the moss, rain on my cheeks, then warm hands and eyes… and then I get to thinking about Jacob, wondering if this is his bed. It smells heavenly. Not that I've been smelling his pillow, but, you know, when you're turning your head it just kind of happens. I wonder if the rest of him is as strong as his arms, I wonder what he sleeps in. Maybe he sleeps naked. The thought makes me squirm a little and I can feel myself smiling at the ceiling.

Ugh, no, this is not a healthy train of thought. I force my eyes open, feeling grieved at the loss of the lovely images contained behind my eyelids, and swing my legs out of bed. So apparently my legs are hurting too. I try to take it slowly, using my good hand to push myself up onto legs that wobble under my weight. By keeping hold on the windowsill, I manage to shimmy along and pick up my rucksack and pull out some clothes. I still can't believe that Jacob has seen me in my underwear. Maybe he should return the favour. I roll my eyes at my own cheeky grin plastered to my face. I pull out a t-shirt and jeans. Huh… this might be tricky. I manage, with some difficulty, to get into my jeans… even to get one arm into my t-shirt, but now I'm stuck. There's no way I can get my left arm out of this sling, into my t-shirt and back again without some help. Fabulous. I presume there's no women in the house to ask to help, seeing as it was Jacob that undressed me in the first place.

"Uh… Jacob?" I call tentatively. I wait, then hear footsteps on the wooden floor outside the door. It swings open and Jacob stands in the doorway, looking like a giant underneath it. His eyes flicker to me, to the one exposed half of my torso, then straight to the floor. Poor thing, he doesn't know what to do with himself. "Can you help me, please… I'm kind of stuck."

"Yeah… sure…" He walks towards me, eyes still on the floor. It's not until he's stood right in front of me that I realise how much he dwarfs me in size. The top of my head barely meets his chin.

"Thank you." My heart starts to pound in my chest, his closeness making me nervous. Yeah, that's definitely his bed I've been sleeping in. He smells wonderful. He reaches up and starts to undo my bandages, holding my arm with one hand, untying with the other. I can't help but marvel, as he threads my arm gently through my t-shirt, how such huge hands could be so gentle. And so warm! I glance up at his face. He looks so cute when he's concentrating, his eyebrows knotted together. As he ties my bandage once more, his eyes flicker up and meet mine. A beat passes. He looks at me, I look at him, then something brushes against my leg and I almost jump out of my skin, straight into Jacob's chest. Yep, the rest of him is just as strong.

I pull myself away from his chest with a nervous laugh and look down to see a ginger cat walking in circles on the floor, looking up at us expectantly. Jacob's face breaks into a massive grin as he leans down and picks up the cat and starts rubbing its chin lovingly.

"Hey there Otis!" he exclaims, planting a kiss on the cat's head which is gratefully receives, purring loudly.

"Cute cat," I comment, reaching out and stroking the fussy cat.

"You like cats?"

"I love cats. I have two back home."

"Oh yeah… you're English right?" I smile, rubbing Otis' exposed tummy.

"You noticed huh?"

"The accent kind of gives it away," he smiles back. How is he this cute, really?

"Thank you for everything, by the way. My hero!" Smooth. Real smooth. He laughs and just shrugs, putting Otis down on the bed.

"No problem. Couldn't just leave you out there could I?"

"Well, thank you anyway." My good hand reaches out of its own accord and touches his arm gently. Again, real smooth Ros, want to try any more cliché flirting moves while you're here?

"Do you want to go grab something to eat?" Sweet Jesus, the cliché flirting move worked.

"Of course!" I exclaim, grinning stupidly. Coughing, I try to calm it down, "I mean, no, that'd be nice. Yes, please."

"Awesome. Come on, I'll drive us." He walks out of the room and I follow dutifully, absorbing my surroundings. He leads us down a pokey hallway which leads out into a small living room, complete with big tv and games console. Yeah, total bachelor pad. It's cluttered, but at least it looks clean. The walls are freshly painted and the carpet feels soft and springy beneath my feet. Crap, my feet. Jacob is already half out of the door before I realise I don't have any shoes on.

"Jacob, my shoes!" I call. He turns around with a sheepish grin, pulling the door closed again.

"Sorry." He grabs my boots from by the front door and gestures to the sofa, which I sit on. He reaches out for my left foot but I jerk it away quickly, causing him to look up at me with a raised eyebrow. "You're gonna need some help on this blondie," he quips. Glowering, I relinquish and let him take hold of my foot, gently slipping it into my boot and doing up the laces. When he takes hold of my right foot I can't stop the giggles from coming, my toes wriggling in protest. "Oh, ticklish, I see." He grins up at me devilishly and I shake my head frantically.

"No, no, no, no," I plead and he just laughs at me, slipping my foot into my boot and tying the laces in a bow.

"I'm not that cruel," he tells me, straightening up and offering me his hand to stand me up again. Before I can offer him my third thank you of the day he walks out of the front door and I have to half walk, half run to catch him up, pulling the front door shut behind me.


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as I'm out of the door I'm hit with the smell of sea air and the wind causes my hair to whip around my face. Directly in front of us, about fifty feet away, is the coastline. It's not exactly Hawaii, but it's still pretty. The sand is dark, littered with large rocks. Out past the shore, further down the coastline, are huge stacks of rock, eroded away from the cliffs, so large they have their own covering of evergreens. Turning, I look at Jacob's house, nestled amongst the trees. It's so tiny it must only contain four rooms, including the two I've been in. However, twenty feet away from the house is a huge garage, twice the size of the house and in front of it is parked a very nice car which Jacob is walking towards. Sleek and black, he beckons me towards it.

"Nice car!" I exclaim as he holds open the door for me. I slide in, noting how spotless his car is compared to his bedroom, and when he hops into the driver's seat he replies,

"Thanks, I fixed her up myself."

"Really? That's so cool." This boy really does have skilled hands. He starts the engine and flashes me a smile,

"It's what I do."

"Hence the massive garage."

"That's right." He starts the engine and we're off, down a small lane then onto a connecting road, at which point he picks up his speed, clearly going over the limit. "What do you do?"

"I'm a midwife. I'm supposed to be starting at Seattle hospital in a few months."

"That sounds a lot cooler than fixing up cars." I smile.

"It's probably just as messy though." He laughs and so do I. How on earth was I so lucky as to end up in this guy's bed? He's so easy to talk to. "So do you go walking in the woods a lot?"

"You could say that," he shrugs, "I do spend a lot of time in them, yeah."

"Somehow I don't think I'll be rushing back." He just chuckles, staring straight ahead, so I turn and watch the world go by the windows. I don't think I'll ever look at these woods the same way again. Endless streaks of green rush past us, then the rain starts to splatter against the windows. Oh well, it's not like I'm not used to the rain. It's just like being at home. "Shit!" I exclaim loudly and Jacob's head whips round to face me, alarmed.

"What's wrong?"

"My car! It was parked along the road last night, shit!" I run my hand through my hair and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Oh, I towed it back to my place after I found you, it's fine."

"Thank you, again. Christ, you really are doing me a lot of favours." The car slows and he parallel parks perfectly against the curb, hoping out and opening my door for me.

"Buy my lunch and we're even," he grins, pulling me out to standing. We've pulled up outside a quaint little diner with faded paint and an aging sign. Jacob pushes the door and a bell jingles our arrival.

"Hi Jake," calls a woman from the counter, stacking some trays, "The usual?"

"Please, Theresa, and… uh?" He looks expectantly to me. Quick decision it is then. Theresa's eyes, lined with crow's feet, flicker to me and she smiles a wide smile, looking me over. I go for a staple favourite.

"Can I just get a ham salad sandwich and a chocolate milkshake, please?"

"Sure," she grins, "Take a seat." Jacob leads us over to a cosy booth in the corner, the red seats shiny from the plastic covering, the table covered in a chessboard patterned tablecloth. Jacob reclines, looking completely at ease, his massive arms resting across the top of the booth, then inclines his head towards me.

"So, tell me about yourself blondie." I scoff.

"For one thing, I don't really appreciate being called blondie." He just grins in reply. "What do you want to know, anyway?"

"Anything, you, your family, whatever." Jake flashes the waitress a winning smile as she hands us our milkshakes. The young girl's knees almost give way as she blushes and stumbles back into the kitchen. Can't say I blame her.

"Not a lot to tell… I'm twenty five… family's back in England. I hate the outdoors, I should think that much is obvious." I shrug, taking a sip of my milkshake. "That's about it really."

"So you hate the outdoors and you were camping alone? Smart," he laughs.

"It was part of a stupid bet. Never been camping before and my friends kept making fun of me."

"I can imagine." I reach out and give him a gentle shove that doesn't move him an inch. Bloody muscles.

"So tell me about you, give me something to make fun of."

"Jacob Black, mechanic extraordinaire and I have two sisters." He narrows his eyes at me and leans forward, as though to whisper something. "I love 70's hair metal." I giggle, stirring my milkshake with my straw. "So there you have it, my darkest secret." He leans back, grinning.

"Darkest huh?"

"The blackest of black." Theresa comes scuttling over with our food and I can't help but gape at the amount she places in front of Jacob. Three sandwiches, all with different fillings, and two portions of fries. No wonder he's massive. He starts to wolf down his fries, only pausing to offer me one, which of course, I take.

"So how old are you?" I ask, starting to pull the crust off my sandwich to be eaten first.

"How old do I look?" he replies between mouthfuls. I hadn't thought about it, really.

"Twenty three, twenty four?"

"Then that'll do nicely," he smiles. I carry on watching him expectantly, but he doesn't offer up any other answer, so I guess my answer was pretty much right.

"What about your parents?"

"My mum passed a long time ago… and my dad… it's been a couple of years now, and my sisters... they moved out a long time ago. They're not too interested it seeing their pesky younger brother." The further along the sentence he gets, the more his eyebrows draw down over his eyes, knotting tightly. Oh god, why did I have to pry. Poor Jacob. I can't imagine losing my parents now, not so young.

"You're all alone?"

"Not completely… I've got… A really tight group of friends. They're more like brothers, really."

"Quil?"

"Yeah, he's one of them." He shakes his head and I get the feeling this topic is over. "So why did you come to America?" Oh great, here we go.

"In short? Bad break-up. Some big life changes were needed so… here I am!"

"Real jerk huh?"

"The biggest." I turn my attention back to my sandwich, trying to stop my mind from wandering too much. God forbid I waste anymore of my thoughts on that piece of… well… whatever.

"His loss." I look up to see Jacob smiling kindly at me and I blush, looking back down at my plate, muttering a thank you. Before long, my sandwich has disappeared, and believe it or not, Jacob is literally minutes behind me. He lets out a contented groan as he finishes, leaning backward and patting his stomach.

"What about you, do you have a girlfriend?" Please don't have a girlfriend, please don't have a girlfriend.

"That's… that's sort of complicated." Ah crap. "I guess I don't. There is someone that means a lot to me… her names Renesmee." What the hell kind of name is that? "She's great, a real sweetheart actually." He's got some silly, goofy grin on his face, all excited and twitchy.

"Oh… right." Come on now Jacob, let's not get too gushy here. I'm in danger of losing my lunch.

"But she made it clear a while back that she doesn't want me in that way, so we're just friends. She moved away with her family a couple years ago."

"That's too bad," I lie, secretly dancing on the inside.

"It was what she wanted, I'm happy for her," he tells me and, to give him credit, I really do believe him.

"Her loss." He smiles at me, bright and beaming, surprisingly cheerful for a guy who has been quite clearly put deep into the 'friend zone'.

"Ready to go?" he asks, starting to slide out of the booth.

"Sure." Once standing I pat my pockets and sigh despairingly. "I don't have my wallet. I'm so sorry," I groan. He places his hand on my back, pleasantly warm through my t-shirt.

"You can get it next time." He walks away and waits at the counter to pay. Next time? Does that mean he wants to go out again? I'll be holding him to that. This guy just looks fantastic from every angle. His t-shirt is clinging tightly to his muscular shoulders and back, creating that perfect inverted triangle. Every little move he makes you can see rippling underneath his clothes. Oh god, underneath his clothes. No, no, bad thoughts, bad thoughts. He holds open the diner door and as I pass, I try desperately not to keep thinking about him topless. "You know, I know someone else called Rosalie, she's blonde too," he tells me as we stroll back to the car.

"Is that so?"

"I like you much better." I feel all the blood rush to my cheeks, making me feel hot and flustered, which isn't helped when Jake leans across me to fix my seat belt. He pauses, leaning close to my face. I feel like I can't breathe.

"I like you too."

* * *

**Hi guys,**

**Just to let you know this chapter has been edited a little from it's first posting. Nothing amazingly plot changing, just the addition of Jacob's sisters that I'd forgotten about! **

**Much love,**

**Steph x**


	5. Chapter 5

As Jacob's little house comes into view in the distance I feel my stomach start to sink. Home time is drawing ever nearer. By this time tomorrow I'll be a hundred and fifty miles away in Seattle, dreaming of men with copper skin and a smile that makes all my hairs stand on end every time he flashes it my way. I don't want to leave, not at all. Being with Jacob is easy, fun. I don't want to lose this feeling of serenity, I haven't felt as relaxed in years as sat right here in this passenger seat, right now. My right hand clings to the car seat tighter with every metre.

As we I slide out of the car I send Jacob a forlorn smile, resting my hand on the roof.

"I guess I better get out of your hair," I say regretfully, "Thank you though, for everything. This has been the best fainting episode… ever." His thick eyebrows raise as he walks around the car towards me, gesturing to my bad arm.

"You're gonna drive like that?" he asks sceptically. Okay, so maybe he has a point. I roll my eyes, putting my hand on my hip.

"What do you suggest then smarty pants?" He grins cheekily at my name calling, folding his arms over his chest. I swear his biceps get bigger every time he flexes.

"You could stay with me a while," he says, casual as anything, blissfully unaware that in my head there's a pubescent girl squealing and clapping her hands at the prospect. Can't seem too eager now, no one likes a gusher.

"I don't want to be any trouble, you've already done so much for me." He waves his hand, shaking his head.

"No problem, it's cool. You can take my bed, I'll just crash on the couch." I grin in agreement, biting my lip to stop the temptation to tell him that actually, I'm more than okay sharing a bed. That'd be just dandy. He starts to walk off toward the house so I follow. My legs are starting to feel shaky again, my body is obviously still protesting from last night. He holds the front door open for me, gently touching my back as I walk past, sending a delicious tingle up along my skin.

"You're quite the gentleman, Jacob," I compliment. He dips a bow.

"What can I say? I know what the ladies like." The smile plastered on his face combined with the boyish twinkle in his eyes is enough to almost make me forget myself, leading to a slightly exaggerated pause, before I finally giggle out,

"I'll bet you do." I lean back, bottom resting against the top of the sofa and just watch as he starts to tidy up, stacking some car magazines and collecting together some bowls and glasses. It's only when he looks back up at me quizzically that I realise I'm just stood there biting my lip, staring at him. It's hard to fight the urge to wipe my hand along my chin to check for drool. I sit myself down on the sofa and start unlacing my boots one handed. "What do you want to do, Jake?" He flops down next to me, the sofa sagging under his weight, tilting me towards him.

"Any suggestions?" Oh plenty, none of which are appropriate for someone I've only just met. I try to stop the blush from rising on my cheeks and just shrug, focusing back on my boots instead. "You mind if we watch baseball?"

"Sure." At least this might numb my brain a little so I can avoid my gutter thoughts. Hey, it's not my fault that my private parts are growing cobwebs and I happen to have woken up in the home of a sex symbol. Jacob starts to flick through the channels and finds a game being commentated by a man with an accent so thick I can barely understand him. He's certainly animated, though. Jacob flashes a smile at me before turnings his attention back to the screen. I can almost see his eyes glaze over. I settle myself down into the sofa and ready myself for a couple of hours of boredom. It's a good job he's pretty.

A couple of hours pass and despite my initial concerns, watching the game with Jacob was actually pretty fun. He didn't zone out completely, in fact he took the time to teach me everything. I reckon I could write my own Wikipedia page all about it, thanks to his thorough explanations. He even brought out chips and dip, which is always a point scorer.

"So there he is, mouthing off, swinging his bat around, so I pitch the ball with a bit of spin," Jacob explains animatedly, moving his hands as he talks, smiling so much his cheeks are dimpling, "And I swear to god, I did not aim for his head-"

"Oh, you didn't?" He nods, bursting out laughing, falling back into the sofa cushions. "Poor Quil!" I can't help but laugh along with him, my hand clasped to my chest.

"He had the bruise for a week!" Peels of laughter again and Jake is holding his sides. Every time I try to stop, I catch sight of Jacob's crumpled up nose and eyes and his infectious laugher takes hold. I can't breathe! Eventually our giggles die down, replaced by sore sides and stomach muscles.

"I'd love to meet the rest of your friends, they sound like so much fun," I tell him emphatically. It'd be nice to meet some new people. I wouldn't have to feel quite so alone in this massive state they call Washington. He shuffles closer to me.

"You will. They'll love you." He turns to the side, leaning over me and gazing into my eyes. I can still see the smile lines etched on his face. I swallow nervously, overwhelmed by his body heat and his intoxicating aura, my heartbeat flying up and through the roof. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile playing on his lips. "I am going to kiss you," he tells me, deliberately slowly, "Now." His words blow his hot, sweet breath against my face and my stomach muscles clench in anticipation. As he leans toward me I don't know where to look, my eyes darting from his gorgeous eyes to his smiling lips and back. Oh god, oh god.

His lips press tentatively against mine, soft but rough, weather worn. It takes me a moment to respond, my shock rendering me temporarily paralysed, but when I do I seem to lose all notion of self-control. I kiss back insistently, my hand grabbing at his neck and working its way into his hair, pulling him to me greedily.

Suddenly he pulls away, attention turning sharply to the door. I open my mouth to speak but he holds up his finger so I promptly close it. He looks as though he's listening to something, his head cocked to the side, but no matter how I strain to hear something, anything, there's nothing but the distant sound of waves.

"I gotta go," he announces, getting up and heading for the door. "Sorry, I'll be back… just… stay here." And then he's gone. He didn't even bother to take his jacket. Well, okay, that was weird. Did that actually just happen? Did I just get kissed by the most attractive man in America? I mean it's kind of a downer that he's done a runner now, but still! I'm sure there'll be a reasonable explanation when he gets back. Maybe. I turn off the tv with a yawn and haul my bum off the sofa. Ugh, I'm numb. I think I'll find the bathtub and give my sore muscles a soak. Jacob will probably be back by the time I'm done, maybe then we can carry on as we left off.

* * *

**Hi readers, Steph here!**

**I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. I'd really appreciate some feedback if you have any, this story has come a bit spur of the moment, so tell me what you're liking, anything you don't like and I'll try to adjust accordingly. Any constructive comments are more than welcome! **

**Thank you lovlies! :) **

* * *

**Thank you to a kind guest for pointing out that it's actually 150 miles between Seattle and La Push! x**


	6. Chapter 6

I wake to the heavy clunk of a door. Opening my eyes, the room is black as pitch, the only light falling in slits upon the bed covers through the window blinds. I turn awkwardly onto my side, wincing at the pain in my elbow and strain for the clock. Three am. Has he really been gone that long?

"Jacob?" I call out into the darkness. The door swings open and I make out the outline of Jake's familiar bulk in the doorway, right before I'm blinded as he switches on the ceiling light. "Ow, ow, I'm blind, god, Jacob!" I cover my eyes with my hand, squinting madly. He kneels down by the side of the bed, leaning his chin on his hands.

"Sorry." He gives a lopsided smile and as my eyes adjust I notice that he's got dirt smeared on his face.

"Mucky pup," I comment, reaching out and rubbing the smear on his cheek, then pick a pine needle out of his hair. "What the hell have you been doing?"

"Oh, the guy were just messing around," he shrugs, avoiding my eyes, "Pushed me into the bushes."

"At midnight?"

"Yeah, well, you know."

"Alright," I yawn, too tired to dig any deeper. He's obviously not telling me something, but it can wait until morning, when I'm less muzzy headed. "I had a bath, I hope that's okay."

"Sure." I turn my head away, closing my eyes and let out a sleepy sigh. I hear movement next to the bed, Jacob moving around the room, and then it stops. "Uh, Ros." Jacob's voice breaks me out of my reverie and when I open one eye I see him standing at the end of the bed, looking tense. "Did you clean up?" I smile.

"Oh, yeah, I just organised things a little. You're welcome!" My smile starts to falter at Jacob's stormy look, and when he turns to face me, his mouth is pressed in a hard line. What's his problem? "Or not…"

"Can you not touch my things, please?" he snaps. I sink a little further into the bed, hurt. I thought I was just being helpful.

"Sorry, I just wanted to help-" He cuts me off in midsentence,

"I just think it's a little rude for you to come into my room and start moving my stuff. Not everyone likes the contents of their backpack to be coloured coded, okay?" He starts looking through his draws and in his wardrobe, shaking his head as he goes along.

"I guess I just didn't think… you're right, I shouldn't impose my weird-"

"No, you shouldn't and yeah, it is weird. We don't even know each other that well, and you're sitting in my bed wearing one of my t-shirts." He gestures to me and I look down at my torso. Why am I looking down? I already know that I'm sat here in a burgundy t-shirt that doesn't belong to me. I feel my cheeks start to flame in embarrassment.

"Now, hang on a minute," I reason, sitting myself up straighter in bed, "I don't know you well enough to pick up your towels off the floor, but you know me well enough to go locking lips with me before abandoning me to go mud wrestling with your friends?" That's got him. He just looks at me, floundering, eyes all squinty and intense. He turns away and sits on the end of the bed, putting his head in his hands. I shuffle forward and place a tentative hand on his back. He doesn't flinch. "Look, okay, you're right. I crossed a line, totally inappropriately and I'm sorry. I promise that my super neat freak, perfectionist lady will be kept safely under lock and key unless you ask for her in future." He turns to look at me over his shoulder, his expression softening. "And I'll wash the t-shirt before I give it back." He sighs and rubs the back of his neck, glancing sideways at me. "Forgive me?" He shrugs and nods somewhat reluctantly. An awkward silence fills the room, so thick I can almost feel it pressing down on me and I shift uncomfortably in his bed, suddenly feeling rather itchy in this t-shirt.

"I'm sorry for kissing you," he mutters. Oh no. That wasn't what I meant at all. I was thrilled with the kisses! I don't quite understand how it happened but I was glad that it did… I don't want it to be something that he regrets, something that's black marked with a note made for it to never happen again.

"I didn't mean… I liked the kissing." I see his little half-smile start to pull at the corners of his mouth as he looks up at me from underneath his eyebrows. "You're easy to talk to and you… you relax me. I know we only just met, and personally I don't see why you'd want to kiss me anyway, but if you get the urge then… I'm not complaining." I grin sheepishly at him, "And if not, then that's cool too, we can slow it down and… I can… stop… wearing your clothes." Here comes the blushing again. I think my rambling seems to have gotten me out of trouble, because Jacob starts to laugh, shaking his head.

"Alright. I might have over-reacted a little." He looks me up and down, still shaking his head. "Guess I'm just not used to having women around who come across as a little anally retentive, I gotta say it." I rub my chest nervously. I'd never realised my love of organisation could ever come across as such a bad thing. "I know you mean well." He pauses, "And you smell really good… so I'll let you off."

"Thanks." He turns to face me on the bed and extends his arms to me, beckoning me into a hug. I lean into it gratefully, leaning my cheek on his rock hard chest and he wraps his arms tight around me. Bloody hell it's hot in here. As I sit and listen to his heartbeat pounding against my ears, which seems much faster than mine, I hope I haven't screwed things up. I'd at least like to keep a super attractive friend. He holds me there a minute longer, his chin resting against the top of my head then relinquishes, exhaling, a small smile on his face. "See you in the morning?" He picks himself up on the bed and makes for the door, running a hand through his hair. I lie myself back down in bed as he reaches for the light switch.

"Night Rosalie." As soon as the door closes I'm plunged into darkness once more. Sleep doesn't come too easily, I lie awake staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours, chewing on my lip worriedly. I can't stand it when I upset people. I know I'm going to lying here overanalysing this for ages. I never mean to do anything wrong, sometimes I just don't think before I do things or say things. Things that seem perfectly normal to me just don't translate so well to others… I guess. Ben always did hate me tidying up his things… I fall asleep still battling with the uneasy feeling in my stomach, the word 'idiot' screaming through my mind.


	7. Chapter 7

I think my arm is feeling a little better, I got dressed all by myself this morning! A quick brush through my hair and I look passable, although admittedly I'm sporting some major bags under my eyes from my rather disturbed nights sleep. I can't stop beating myself up about making Jacob so mad at me. I'll have to try to make it up to him today; maybe I can cook breakfast or something… I creep out of his bedroom and down the hall into the dimly lit living room. Jacob's still fast asleep on the sofa, without a blanket. Isn't he cold? Then again he is like his own personal radiator. I lean over the back of the sofa carefully to get a better look. He looks adorable, curled up on his side, his mouth hanging just a little revealing his pearly whites. I dither as I straighten up again, wondering what to do. I feel kind of hyper-sensitive to my own behaviour. I keep questioning whether or not what I'm doing is acceptable, although it's a bit of a no brainer that I shouldn't be watching him sleep.

If I was at home right now I'd be tidying the place up, getting everything in its place for the day ahead, but I can't bring myself to touch anything just in case. A glance towards the kitchen and I start wondering about breakfast again, although making breakfast would require going into cupboards and we all know how that went down and… oh god Rosalie stop with the paranoia! Just stop. There's a simple solution to this, I'll just wake him up and ask. I hope he's a morning person.

I shuffle around to the front of the sofa and kneel down. My eyes level with his closed ones, I gently touch his shoulder, causing him to exhale heavily. The breath that passes over my face takes me back to last night, the look in his eyes right before he kissed me and I feel that familiar squeeze of the muscles in my stomach and the sensation of longing that comes with it. But, regrettably, I think waking him with a kiss might be crossing that line again.

"Are you gonna wake me up, or just sit there looking at me all morning?" I fall backwards onto my ass, making a little squeak of surprise as one of his beady eyes opens to look at me, twinkling with amusement.

"Scared the freaking life out of me…" I mutter, shifting myself back onto my knees, my heart pounding. I slap his shoulder and he just laughs at me, sitting himself up and rubbing his eyes. He offers me his hand and pulls me up onto the sofa to sit next to him and much to my surprise, he keeps his hand wrapped around mine. "Sleep okay?" I ask, still staring at the alien image of my hand being held ever so gently.

"Not really," he admits, turning his head that's leant back on the sofa to face me, "I feel like a jerk… getting so mad at you." I smile, giving his hand a little squeeze.

"Forget about it, honestly, it's all good. I'd forgotten about it already." You big fat fibber Rosalie Marcum, you big fat fibber. "You want some breakfast?" I ask before my conscience can keep hassling me.

"You cook?"

"Eh, I get by," I shrug, "I can make a pretty mean pancake."

"That'd be awesomely tasty." I reluctantly let go of his hand and get up, making for the kitchen. "I'll give you a hand. You need at least two." He gives my back a playful little shove so I shoot him a little glare over my shoulder and push open the door to the kitchen.

Oh lord. Oh heaven above. The sight that greets me makes my skin start to prickle and my palms itch. Dirty plates and tableware piled up on the draining board, empty packets littering the countertops, little piles of crumbs in the corners on the floor. I realise I've stopped dead in my tracks and my face must be showing some hint of my horror because Jacob coughs behind me and steps past. "I guess I could do with being a little more anal huh?" I drag my eyes away from the food hygiene standards massacre and try to plaster a smile on my face.

"No… no, don't worry about it." He leans closer, squinting at me.

"Are you… sweating?" Oh god, I am. I chuckle nervously, wiping my brow with my sleeve. "This is like an actual problem for you isn't it?" Why does this have to happen to me? Why can't I keep my weird compulsions to myself, I look like such an idiot, standing here sweating just because of a few dirty plates. "Hey, it's alright," he tells me, looking concerned, reaching out and touching my arm kindly.

"No, no it's not. I'm acting like such a freak." He pulls me closer to his chest and I realise when I'm stood against him just how tense my body is.

"We've all got our freaky stuff," he smiles, "Come on, you wash and I'll dry, yeah?" I nod as he lets me go, approaching the pile cautiously and starting the tap. As soon as the soapy bubbles start to foam I feel a million times more relaxed and even though it's a challenge with one hand, soon Jacob and I have a good system going. Oh god damn it. I drop a plate in the sink and it slops water up and over the side of the counter, right onto my shirt, soaking me through. Jacob starts to laugh as I stare glumly down at my stomach, so I grab a fist full of bubbles and water and fling it at him in vengeance.

"Hey!" He shrieks like a girl, dancing away, trying to dodge my splashes, his tongue poking out at the side. He discards his towel and the glass he's carrying and rushes at me, griping my wrist tightly and pulling it away from the sink.

"Jake, let go of me!" I giggle, trying to jerk free of his grasp.

"Nope!" He shoves his other hand into the sink, pulling up a handful of bubbles and pushes them into my face and into my hair while I squeal for mercy, trying to kick out at his shins with my eyes firmly closed to protect them from the soap.

"Jacob!" He laughs and then I feel his large hand move across my face, pushing back the bubbles from my eyes. When I open them he's got that intense look on his face again and my giggles die out rather abruptly This time I take the lead, standing on my tiptoes and pressing my lips fervently against his. Our faces wet with water, his nose glides over mine in-between kisses and when I bravely nip his bottom lip with my teeth he presses me back against the counter, wet t-shirt to wet shirt. His hand grips tighter on my wrist and I love the little pinch of pain that shoots up my arm and all the way down into the depths of my belly, making my legs feel funny and my head swim.

"Ow!" I exclaim and Jacob flies back from me, looking shocked and worried, eyebrows draw down tight.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks. He sounds unusually concerned, stepping closer to me again and lifting the arm of the wrist he'd been holding, checking it with dilated pupils.

"Wrong arm," I smile, "You just pressed on the sprain, that's all." He sighs in relief, and I can't help but wonder why on earth he's so worried, I'm hardly bleeding all over the floor or anything. "I'm fine." He cups my face in one hand, tenderly, and kisses me again, so softly this time and when he pulls away, his forehead leaning against mine, he's smiling at me. One more kiss and he pulls away completely, retrieving towel and heading back to the sink.

"Come on, I'm hungry."

"Me too," I growl suggestively before I even realise what I'm saying and once again the kitchen is filled with our laughter.


	8. Chapter 8

"They turned out pretty well huh?" I smile across the small table to Jacob, who I think must have finished his about fifteen minutes ago. I swear that boy inhales his food.

"Yeah, seeing as you almost cried when we were 100 grams short of flour," he laughs, leaning back on the back legs of his chair. I get up and collect our plates and carry them over to the sink, tutting.

"Ha-ha, Rosalie's an obsessive perfectionist…" I mutter in a sing-song voice, scrubbing the plates and then popping them on the draining board. Jacob touches my back gently, turning me round.

"I'm gonna go have a shower, okay?" I nod and he leaves, pulling the door closed behind him, leaving me to finish clearing up. As I hear the shower start to run next door, the pipes groaning in protest, I spy a broom in the corner. Gosh, this is awkward. I'd never realised how difficult sweeping with one hand is before. Nevertheless, I manage to make myself a neat little pile. I'm bending down, head stuck in the cupboard looking for a dustpan when I hear something scratching at the kitchen door. On opening, Otis looks up at me and meows loudly, and then pushes past me to his food bowl, starting to munch loudly on cat biscuits.

"Hey Otis." Bending down, I give him a scratch behind his ears which he gratefully receives, purring and dribbling. He looks startled and darts away under the table when a knock comes from the front door, his tail fluffing up to twice its size, his body low to the ground. Weird, he seems such a friendly cat. On my way to answer the door it's knocked again rapidly. "I'm coming," I call, rolling my eyes at the knocker's impatience. "Can I help you?" I ask as I open the door.

Holy shit.

"Please, I need to see Jacob Black, is he there?" The young man's voice rasps as he speaks, escaping from dry, cracking lips framed by a filthy face. His hair is matted, tangled to his shoulders, but that is by no means the most startling thing about his appearance. He's completely naked, his hands covering his private parts, covered in dirt and cuts and bruises. It's only when his dark eyes start to fill with something that looks like shame that I realise how awful I'm acting, standing here looking at him with my mouth hanging open, and it snaps me into action.

"Come inside, god, what's happened to you?" I usher him inside quickly, gesturing to the sofa and slam the door, running to the bathroom instead. I bang on the door, looking over my shoulder at the boy made of skin and bones, lowering himself slowly onto Jacob's couch. "Jacob, Jacob! Come out, please!" When I hear faint sounds of him singing, out of tune, I bang more insistently. The water stops, as done the singing, and a moment later Jacob pulls open the door, soaking wet, wearing only a towel. Oh my. This is far too much partial nudity for this time of a morning…

"What's wrong?" I don't even know what to say, all I can do is step back and point at the back of the man's head, my eyes wide, shrugging. Jacob steps past me, grabbing another towel on his way out of the bathroom and beginning to rub his hair frantically, looking as perplexed as I feel. He walks around to the other side of the sofa and as soon as his eyes lock onto the man's obviously nudity, his eyes shoot back up to mine. "Ros, can you grab some clothes please?"

I run into Jacob's bedroom and rifle through his drawers, pulling out two pairs of boxers, jeans and two t-shirts. As I come practically running back into the living room, I hear the man pleading in a gravelly voice,

"Please, I need your help, I need the pack's help." I stop dead in my tracks, holding the clothes under my good arm. Pack? Jacob's gaze flickers nervously to mine and he strides towards me, taking the clothes.

"Pack? I don't know what you-"

"I know all about you, Jacob. The pack, the Quilette legends, the shape shifting, everything." Jacob laughs uneasily, passing the man some clothes and starting to pull on his own underneath his towel. "I need your help… all of you."

"Sorry, but, who are you?" Jake snaps, doing up his belt.

"My name's William Baxter," he replies, pulling Jacob's t-shirt, which completely swamps his skinny frame. "I'm a werewolf."

…

Say what now?

…

"Ros, can you get William a glass of water, please?" He asks me quickly, not breaking eye contact with William, staring with a ferocious intensity.

"Uh, yeah, okay." I stumble my way to the kitchen, only realising after my first step how much my whole body is shaking. I grab a glass from the counter and fill it from the tap. Did that man just say he's a werewolf? I'm pretty sure that's what I just heard. I watch my hand shake as I fill the glass to the top and after turning I have to lean myself against the counter top for a moment to regain my balance. Werewolves? They don't exist. Stuff of fairy tales and legends. This guy must have been stranded in the forest too long, that's got to be it. But then why would Jacob respond so fiercely?

As I reach the door, I pause. I can hear them talking.

"Not your kind, obviously… you guys have it easy, changing when you please." Jacob scoffs loudly. "Look, I'm not going to bore you with the details, I'll save that for when we're with the pack… all you need to know is that I'm in danger. _We're _in danger. I need your help." Otis meows loudly, rubbing against my leg, his tail quivering. I shush him, pressing my ear closer to the door.

"In danger from who, what are you talking about?" Jacob asks impatiently.

"Look, we don't have time for this!" Williams voice is getting louder, a desperate tone taking over. He sounds close to tears. "They could be tracking me here right now!" I push through the door brusquely and they both turn to look at me. I was right; tears are making tracks down his cheeks, leaving clean lines through the ingrained dirt. His tears make my heart swell and my mouth starts running off without my brain as I hand him his water.

"I have absolutely no idea what's going on," I exclaim, gesturing towards William, "But this poor guy is practically begging for your help and you're just standing there glaring at him." Jacob's mouth moves but no sound comes out and eventually his shoulders sag, his hands falling down to his sides from his hips. He sighs resignedly.

"Alright," he succumbs. He gestures towards the bathroom. "Go clean yourself up or something and I'll take you to see them."

"Thank you," he chokes out, tears still falling, "Thank you," he repeats, looking at me this time. His sincerity makes me smile, but it's stifled as soon as I turn to look at Jacob and meet his stoic gaze. William pushes himself up from the sofa, wincing, and slowly makes his way to the bathroom. Every step he takes looks laboured and painful; it makes me cringe just to watch. It's not until the door is shut and we hear it lock that Jacob talks to me.

"That guy is nuts." I raise my eyebrows sceptically, my hand on my hip.

"Oh really?" He looks incredulously at me, taking a step forward.

"Did you not hear the stuff he was saying?"

"I certainly did," I confirm, "And if it weren't for the fact that everything he said seemed to have such an effect on you, I'd probably agree. You did seem awfully keen for me to not hear what he was saying." Jacob shuffles uncomfortably from foot to foot, rubbing his neck and avoiding my eyes. When he looks at me again, his eyes are pleading, his expression so adorable that the sweetness of it should make my teeth hurt. He steps close to me, putting his hand on my arm.

"Will you just stay here for me, please?" I laugh and his expression crumples.

"You really think I'm staying here, after what I just heard? You may not want me to know what's going on, Mr Black," I poke his stomach with my finger, "But after the last couple of days, in particular that minor occurrence with a giant wolf in the forest that somehow chose not to eat me, I sort of feel… somewhat involved."

"Please, Rosalie…"

"I'm coming, Jake. Wild dogs couldn't keep me away." I pull away from his grasp before his puppy dog look manages to change my mind and take myself off to his bedroom to change my damp shirt.

What the hell is going on around here?

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**Okay guys, that is pretty much it now for the next couple of days (work, ugh) but I'll update as soon as I have change to write more.**

**I'd really appreciate some reviews to spur me on!**

**Thanks for reading :) **

**Steph x**


	9. Chapter 9

Jacob doesn't speak to me again until we're climbing into his car. Our eyes meet as I fasten my seatbelt and I notice his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he exhales loudly before speaking,

"Are you sure you want to come?" To be honest, no, but I'll be damned if he knows that.

"Absolutely," I lie with what I hope is a confident smile. He leans over and takes my hand, his thumb rubbing gently against my palm.

"That might change your perspective on… a lot of things." When I shrug nonchalantly, he huffs. "I mean it. It could change everything."

"Jacob," I squeeze his hand tightly, tilting my head to one side, "I moved half way across the world looking for change. I want to come with you." He sighs again, giving my hand one last squeeze before releasing his hold and starting the engine. I swivel around in my seat, straining to see William sitting in the back seat looking frantically out of the window, chewing on his fingernails. "Are you okay, Will?" I ask tentatively. He jumps, his head snapping round to face me.

"Yeah… good… I'm good," he replies quickly, making only the briefest of eye contact before they slide back to the window, darting frantically from side to side. The only part of him that is still recognisable since his shower is his nervous disposition. It took a while, but an hour after venturing into the bathroom William finally emerged, clean, clothed and shaven. I suspect most of the time had been taken up in cutting his hair, which was now a rough mess of blonde, stunted curls. Almost totally unrecognisable, he looks even younger, even more fragile than before. What horrors has this boy seen to make him sit like that, posture curled in on himself, rocking gently back and forth?

I drag my eyes away, back to Jacob. "Do you think he's going to be okay?" I whisper softly. I think even if I shouted it, chances are our nervous friend would be too distracted to hear me.

"I don't know," he answers tightly, "I don't really know what's going on." I'll bet he knows a whole lot more than me. The heavens open again and start to lash down loudly rain against the windshield. Even with the wipers on top speed I can barely see a thing, but Jacob continues driving confidently, still speeding, until after mere minutes he pulls onto what sounds like gravel. He hops out of the car and flings open my door, splattering me with rain, practically pulling me out and running with me onto a front porch, using his height to shield me from most of the rain. William comes running after us, panting from the exertion. Jacob doesn't bother to knock the front door, when he turns the handle it swings straight open and he ushers us inside, closing the door and locking it. "Come with me." Both William and I follow Jake obediently through a small hallway and into a brightly lit kitchen with clean white counters and cheery yellow walls. The people inside must have already been expecting us because their heads are turned towards the door before we're even inside. Six eyes and smiles lock onto Jacob as he enters, stooping through the doorway, smiles that grow even wider when they catch sight of me as Jake pushes me forwards, then falter at the sight of William. The men's noses start to wrinkle and the only face I recognise, Quil's, is distorted in confusion as they look William up and down from their respective spots at the kitchen table.

"Jacob, we weren't expecting you." The authoritative voice comes from the tall, broadly built man who's rising from the table. His face is a picture of calm, but his eyes look uncertain, flicking between William and I as he approaches. "You should have… called." I walk myself a few paces backwards so my back is against the wall, eager to fade into the background.

"It was a little difficult," Jacob explains, his gaze flickering towards me, causing Sam to focus on me properly for the first time. He gazes at me for a beat and gifts me with the smallest of smiles, before turning his attention back to Jacob.

"Who's your friend bro?" Another voice calls from the table, this man slightly smaller than the others, but still well-muscled, tanned as the rest.

"Hang on, Seth," the woman next to him berates gently, and as I take her in properly for the first time I suddenly notice that hidden under her long, sleek black hair, is half a face covered in horrific scars. One side of her mouth smiles at me as she rises from the table and I thank the lord that I perfected my poker face during my midwifery training. It isn't a profession that lends itself well to wearing your emotions on your sleeve, especially revulsion of any kind. "Would you like me to give your friend a tour, Jake?" she asks, gesturing towards me meaningfully, and I realise, as Jacob is poised to nod, what she's trying to do.

"No!" I exclaim, then realise from the frowns my outburst gains me that I must have come across a little rude. "No thank you. Jacob's already tried to talk me out of coming, unsuccessfully, and to be honest, I think it's a little late in the game to be acting like everything's perfectly normal down here in La Push." The teenage girl at the table starts to giggle, trying to smother it beneath her thick fringe of black hair. Everyone continues to stare at me. All I can manage is a lame shrug. "No offense."

"You really do suck at secret keeping, Uncle Jay," the girl giggles, ignoring a gentle elbow in the ribs from Quil.

"Claire-bear," he mutters, his tone disapproving but his eyes gazing at her in obvious adoration. Jacob just looks down at her, one black eyebrow raised, finally cracking a smile when she manages to smother her laugher with both hands.

"Again, Jacob?" The authoritative man sighs. Instead of looking chastised, Jacob's grin just grows as he shrugs boyishly.

"Sorry Sam. Really wasn't my fault this time, promise." Sam just shakes his head wearily and then walks closer to William, dwarfing him in size so that the blonde boy has to look upward just to meet Sam's eyes. He looks even more nervous than he did in the car, eyes switching from face to face, back against the wall like mine, only focusing properly once Sam is stood directly in front of him. "She's really stubborn!" Jacob shrugs in Quil's direction, his eyes wide and innocent. Quil's given in, giggling along with Claire, rolling his eyes.

"Anything for a pretty face," Seth smirks.

"Enough," Sam announces firmly and instantly everyone sits to attention, all eyes on William. "Who are you?"

I can see William quivering from the other side of the room, his chin shaking as he opens his mouth to open.

"My names William Baxter," he replies meekly.

"He says he needs our help," Jacob interjects, "That he's being hunted."

"Why would anyone be doing that?" Sam presses, his look stoic and serious, addressing both Will and Jacob at once.

"He's-"

"I'm a werewolf," William speaks up, interrupting Jake. I watch the reaction in the room as they receive the information that made me shake and shiver on first hearing. Everyone suddenly looks nervous and confused, several arms being folded at once.

"You don't smell right," Quil says, his nose wrinkling again, looking Will up and down, "We would have known you were coming."

"I'm different," he tells them, stepping forward, seemingly overcoming his nerves momentarily. "I've not got any noble, spirit warrior bloodline, like you." He gestures to the group as he talks, and I can't help but note the unpleasant undertones in his voice, the sullen look barely contained behind his eyes. "I was bitten two years ago. I thought it was just a bite that got infected… the fever was so intense. Then I started waking up in places I didn't recognise after every full moon. Naked, bloody…" His eyes drift off somewhere else, as if he's remembering. His lips twitch, and he's back. "I was coping… I adjusted… and then I noticed I was being followed."

"Followed?" the girl with the scar asks, her hands clasped tight on the table in front of her, knuckles white.

"They call themselves the Order of Arcadia," William smirks, his fear only obviously from the way his hands suddenly start to wring, "They're werewolf hunters."

"How haven't we heard of them before?" Jacob asks, addressing Sam, his face unusually serious. William laughs derisively.

"Your guess is as good as mine… A pack your size, I don't know how they'd overlook you. Maybe it's just my bad luck," he comments, his voice bitter.

"Maybe because we're not true werewolves?" Seth interjects, hope obvious in his voice.

"From what I can gather, they don't seem the type to care much about differentiating. They've taken shots at me before while I'm still human." On cue, William pulls up his t-shirt to reveal a nasty welt across his side. It looks angry and inflamed, although the scar looks fully healed. "Silver bullets," he explains.

"And now you've led them right to us," Sam accuses, his voice louder than before. He looks over his shoulder to the woman with the scars and I see the panic in his eyes as he looks at her. He moves to her side and they exchange a long look before he wraps both arms protectively around her, pulling her snug to him.

"I need your help!" William exclaims and I hear the desperation in his voice again, the same as before, "Your pack isn't as unknown as you think… I thought with your size you'd be able to help me!"

"We don't fight humans," Jacob states bluntly and Sam nods in confirmation,

"Our purpose is to protect Quilete lands, not to wage wars." An awkward silence fills the room as William looks frantically from one person to the next, his mouth flapping in silent indignation.

"You won't help me?" The boys exchange glances until Sam signs resignedly. When he speaks, he's not looking at William. Instead, he's looking adoringly at the woman in his arms; as though it were the last time he would ever see her.

"We need to know all the facts before we agree to anything, and for that, we need the rest of the pack." He finally looks up, straight to Jacob.

"Call them."


	10. Chapter 10

When Jacob rushes out of the room I immediately follow. I expect him to make for a phone, but instead he starts to unlock the front door hurriedly, only noticing me when my boots thump on the light wood floors.

"Ros, stay with the others, please," he implores, hesitating at the door.

"I want to stay with you," I say stubbornly, folding my good arm across my chest. He chuckles sardonically, shaking his head, letting the rain pour in from outside, wetting the hallway floor.

"No, honey, you don't." He pushes the door partially closed and walks close to me, taking the tops of my arms in his hands, completely encircling them in heat. "Can you please just trust me on this?"

"Jake," I start, and he knows he's already lost because he steps away, sighing, "If the rest of your… tribe… pack… or whatever are coming, I want to know what I'm dealing with," I insist. He looks down at me, concern filling his eyes.

"I'll show you, but… just promise me one thing… okay?" He rubs his neck anxiously, looking down at his feet. When he looks back up at me his eyes are troubled, apprehensive. "Give me time to explain."

"I promise," I reassure, although I'm not entirely sure what it is I'm promising. I'm walking blindly here into something I know nothing more about than what I've gleamed from sci-fi shows and the occasional documentary mentioning mythical creatures. As he leads me outside, it dawns on me how thoroughly unprepared I am. What if he's out of control? What if he attacks me? I'd have no idea how to defend myself, if defence is even possible. He opens up his car, reaching in and pulling out a jacket which he throws to me. I shrug the massive garment on gratefully, pulling up the hood to shield myself from the insistent rain. Is it the cold or fear that has me shaking?

Why is he undressing? He pulls off his t-shirt in one swift motion to reveal a washboard stomach, copper skin pulled tight over muscle, then disappears for a moment as he bends down, reappearing as he throws his trainers onto the car seat. All that's left is his ragged jeans and a little pack he's grasping tightly in his hand. As he slams the car door, skin shining from the rain, his ebony hair plastered to his forehead, he sends me a little smile, hopeful and unsure. Then he jogs off into the woods.

"Jacob?" I call, confused. My breath starts to mist as I exhale and as I squint, trying desperately to see past the thick branches of evergreen, all I can hear is the rain sloping down against the muddy earth. Has he changed his mind? Should I go back to the house?

Then suddenly there's a rustling in the trees and as I turn to face the source of the sound, my heart leaps up into my throat, making a lump that's impossible to swallow. Padding slowly out of the trees towards me is a gargantuan wolf, its' paws the size of dinner plates, leaving massive footprints in the soggy ground. A step backwards and my back meets the bonnet of Jacob's car. I mustn't run… I mustn't run. I try to remind myself that this is what I was expecting, I already knew what he was… he prepared me for this. The appearance of this enormous wolf shouldn't take me by surprise.

And yet I can't calm my heart rate and my hands are shaking like jelly as it approaches, still slow, still cautious. It stops, six feet away and just looks at me with deep set, chocolate brown eyes. They're not animal eyes, the depth and emotion within them is plain to see, the same emotion that Jacob was wearing before he walked into the woods and emerged as… this. Hopeful, unsure. There's no doubt left in my mind that this is the oversized creature that came to save me in the clearing, this is Jacob Black.

I take a deep breath and force myself to move forward, one step at a time. The wolf… Jacob, inclines his head and takes a watchful step forward too and step by step, we finally meet in the middle, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. I reach out and touch his reddish-brown fur gingerly. It's soft, softer than I thought it would be, somewhere between cat and dog and as I continue to stroke I feel my anxiety start to melt away. He's so tame, so gentle and patient as I carefully stroke his head, his muzzle and then finally under his chin, at which point a low purr starts to rumble from his chest. One look at his large, almond eyes and I can see the happiness shining through at me. When I smile in reply he catches me completely off guard, shifting forward and nuzzling his head close against my stomach affectionately. Laughing, I hug his massive head as best I can with one arm.

"You're not so scary in the daylight," I tell him as he pulls away softly. He gives me one last playful nudge with his nose before he trots off back into the woods, reappearing moments later just in his jeans. This time he runs at me, his bright smile beaming, lifting me up off the ground into a tight hug. I laugh all the way through it, enjoying the warmth that beats through from his skin to mine and when he puts me down the hug doesn't stop. He coils his arms around me, carefully avoiding my sling, and rests his cheek on the top of my head through my hood.

"You weren't scared," he whispers and the relief is crystal clear in his voice. I chuckle,

"Oh I was scared… just not passing out scared this time…" He gives me a tight squeeze, one hand reaching up and cradling my cheek, tucking my head into his clammy chest. He smells musky, of the woods, of earth. Wonderful. "Thank you," I whisper, "For saving me the other night."

"Thank you for not running away," he replies earnestly, letting me go. He smiles down at me, that gorgeous, toothy, Jacob grin. "Come on." He takes my hand and walks me back to the house, taking his jacket back once we're inside. I inspect his bare chest, an eyebrow raised.

"Are you not putting your clothes back on?" He laughs, leading me through a different door off the hall into a small living room filled with comfy looking furniture that looks like it's seen better days. When Jacob flops his whole weight onto it in one fell swoop, I can understand why. As I sit next to him, somewhat more delicately, he explains,

"The clothes were for your benefit… we kind of run hotter than normal humans." That makes sense.

"I had noticed how hot you were." I see his cheeky smile start to grow, "Don't even bother, Jake," I giggle, nudging my shoulder against his. A small fire is crackling away quietly in the hearth, casting a warm glow all over the room, making Jacob look even more bronzed than normal and providing much needed light due to the presence of only one small window overlooking the back yard. "Does the heat not bother you?"

"Used to it I guess," he shrugs, "It does come in handy from time to time." I'll bet, I'd love to have my own personal radiator with me all the time.

"Oh!" I exclaim, "Did you call the others, your pack? I didn't hear you speaking to anyone." Jacob smiles mirthfully,

"I forget how much you don't know… The pack… we can hear each other's thoughts when we change."

"Everything?"

"Pretty much, that's why Sam and Seth recognised you when we first got here. They already knew about what happened in the clearing, all of the pack does." He rolls his eyes as he leans forward and prods the fire with the poker. "It can be really frustrating, never having any thoughts that are just your own. Plus you get to hear everyone else's bullshit all the time." He takes my hand again and starts to trace patterns on the back of my hand with his fingers. It tickles. "But the feeling of family is nice… I wouldn't want to give it up."

"So Claire, and that woman with the scar… Are they in the pack too?"

"Emily? That's a whole other story-"

"No passing out this time Rosalie?" Quil comes strolling in, a big smile on his face, closely followed by Claire whose hands are shoved deep in her pockets. Now the jig is up, it seems both he and Seth have shed their t-shirts too.

"I was a little more prepared this time, thank you," I retort before poking out my tongue indignantly to which he just laughs.

"Really good at phasing, isn't he?" Seth asks, but my attention is still on Quil. There's plenty of free chairs, but because Claire is standing, so is Quil, right next to her. Really close next to her. She's got to be, what, thirteen, fourteen? Weird. Maybe they marry young round these parts…

"Sorry, phasing?"

"Changing," Jacob explains, looking smug, "When we first start to change it's really uncontrolled… any strong emotions can trigger us off, especially anger."

"Jake never changes anymore unless he wants to, do you bro?" I think there's a little element of hero worship going on here, and by the looks of Jacob's puffed up chest, he loves it. A cough interrupts us as Emily enters the room, smiling gently.

"If you're finished showing off, Jake," she teases, "We need to decide what to do with our guest. Sam's concerned that it's another full moon tonight."

"Can William not control it at all?" I ask, feeling somewhat naive. Emily shakes her head.

"Not from what he's described. If he gets loose, he's dangerous."

"I have some chains in my garage," Jacob suggests. I try to hide my horrified expression at the thought of Will being chained up in a cold garage for the night. Admittedly, I know it's necessary, but that doesn't mean it doesn't make my stomach turn. "The guy who used to live there sound-proofed it too, for his band or something."

"That sounds perfect," says Sam, entering the room with Will at his side, chewing his nails again. "Sundown is in a couple of hours and I don't want to risk waiting for the others before we make sure we're not endangering anyone." Everyone nods in agreement, apart from William of course. I doubt he's entirely thrilled with the chain idea either.

"We'll meet first light tomorrow and get the full story."


	11. Chapter 11

"Are you sure you're really okay being chained up for the night, Will?" I ask as we climb out of the car, raising my eyebrows in concern. He shrugs, Jacob's large clothes flopping around as he does, exaggerating the movement.

"It's for the best… I'm used to it. Usually it's rope but…" He trails off, attempting a half smile. Everything this guy does looks agonising, even smiling. He's so thin that when he smiles the skin doesn't look like it should stretch that far, it looks tight and sore, like it might split at any moment. I think I prefer it when he's frowning. William and I trail behind Jake in the direction of the garage, loitering in the remaining daylight.

"Do you need me to get you some food… water… anything?" He shakes his head slowly as the garage doors swing open. It's dim inside making it look misleadingly small, but as we step further inside and my eyes adjust, it's actually quite spacious. Various engine parts and tools litter the dark corners, but other than that it's relatively tidy, by Jacob standards.

"I get so out of it when I change I wouldn't realise you'd put anything out for me anyway," he says, eyeballing Jacob who is busily collecting up a large pile of chains.

"Are you ready?" he asks Will, his biceps bulging from holding the thick chains aloft. William nods glumly, then turns to me.

"I know you've seen me naked already today Ros, but would you mind leaving while I strip…" He flushes with embarrassment as my mouth flops open, "I don't want to ruin all of your friend's clothes."

"Oh, no, no, of course," I stutter, backing out. Jacob gives me a sympathetic smile as I pull the doors closed behind me. I think he knows that I won't sleep well tonight, knowing there's someone – or rather something – chained up in the garage. I wonder back into the house to wait and I'm greeted happily by Otis, ready and waiting to brush against my legs, meowing affectionately. I wish my cats at home were this affectionate. He follows me up onto the sofa, walking across my lap and circling before finally settling in a tight ball, purring loudly. As I sit, stroking his fur, I try to keep the images of William in chains from my mind and decide busy myself with my sling instead. Nothing like a tricky knot to keep the mind from wandering.

I'm still fiddling with the knot when Jacob comes in, looking troubled. "Everything okay?" Jake sits next to me and Otis decides to switch laps, ever the loyal feline.

"It all looks pretty secure," he confirms, still frowning as he scratches Otis behind the ears, "You know this troubles me as much as it does you, right?" I nod sympathetically, still struggling with my sling.

"At least we know he can't come to harm in there…"

"Let me help you." Jacob undoes my sling deftly with his dextrous fingers, revealing the elastic bandaging underneath. "How's it feeling?"

"Swollen," I hiss as he prods it gently, "And sore." He holds my arm with one hand and uses the other to remove the bandage. He flinches in empathy every time I do. "What are you doing?"

"Massage, to help the swelling." He starts to rub the swelling around my elbow, his fingers moving very slowly and tenderly. "I'm so glad I don't have to put up with this crap anymore." I give him a quizzical look, wondering what he means, "Another wolf thing… we heal really quickly."

"Oh." I sit contentedly, just watching his chunky fingers work their magic, once again wondering how someone so large could be so tender. He glances up at me.

"Relax," he smiles, eyes creasing at the corners. I lean my head back against the sofa cushions and close my eyes, letting my wind wonder. This feels wonderful. I wonder what his fingers would feel like trailing over my neck, my back. His lips too.

"Mmmmm…" I exhale noisily, without meaning to. I feel my cheeks redden, but I daren't open my eyes. I know exactly the look that'll be on Jacob's face. That cheeky, I know I'm so hot you just can't help yourself kind of look. He starts to use the whole of his hands, wrapping them around my forearm and elbow, acting as homemade heat packs. The warmth feels like it's soaking right through to my bones and it feels so delightfully relaxing.

"Nice?" he asks quietly, his tone still betraying his smirking.

"Much better, thank you," I reply, expecting him to let go, but he doesn't. Instead his warm hands are replaced by his mouth as he starts to place feather light kisses along my arm. My breath hitches in my throat and I open my eyes to see the top of his head, his face bent down reverently, eyes closed as he continues his kisses. I want to just sit here and let him continue, I want to tilt my neck back and encourage him to explore further, but I can't shake a nagging feeling at the back of my mind that makes me open my mouth and interrupt, despite my screaming libido. "Jake," I whisper. He looks up at me from under his eyebrows, his eyes smouldering, lips still pressed to my arm. "Jake, why are you doing this?" He pulls away, looking vaguely hurt.

"What do you mean?" he asks, settling for sitting with my hand in his, gently rubbing my thumb with his own. Otis jumps down from his lap and exits to the kitchen, as if sensing the tension.

"Why are you kissing me like this? It's been two days…" He tilts his head, like he doesn't understand, frowning.

"I thought you liked it…"

"I do!" I exclaim, reaching over and placing my other hand on top of his, squeezing comfortingly. "It's just… I've done nothing to deserve all this attention from you, yet you're showering me with affection, you're introducing me to all these people that you share this extreme secret with and I just… don't get it." He just smiles at me, and seeing the beauty of it just makes me feel all the more unworthy. "Why me?"

"I know you well enough to know that you want a logical explanation," he sniggers and I roll my eyes in agreement, "Truth is I can't really give you one. I like you. You're confident. Anyone can tell that just from the way you carry yourself and how stubborn you are. I like how you've been watching over William because it shows me that you're kind. You're playful and you're funny, you're smart enough to be pretty quick witted when you want to be… I just… I like the way you're put together." He grins and I feel my cheeks start to burn in embarrassment. I can't remember the last time anyone said such nice things about me… and all at once, too! "I mean, you're a bit obsessive, a little bit of a clean freak and a perfectionist, things I don't think I'll ever understand… but who am I to judge? Wolf." He points at himself, laughing throatily and I chuckle along with him. "Which is another thing... not once have you judged me or seemed horrified by what I am. It's such a big part of me… it means a lot to me that you've just taken it all in your stride." I shrug, smiling,

"You don't seem like any kind of monster to me." He lifts my hands to his face and kisses my palms gently, one by one.

"Are those enough reasons for you?" I nod, sated and satisfied by his answer.

"Guess I'm just feeling pretty lucky, is all," I whisper, reaching up and running my hand through his messy strands of hair. A moment of pause. "Do you not want to know why I like you?" He laughs again.

"Have you seen me lately?" He gestures to himself, moving his hands up and down his body and I can't contain myself. I'm doubled up in laughter, holding onto my tummy with my good hand.

"Ow, ow, Jacob, I can't breathe," I gasp through giggles. There are tears rolling down my cheeks by the time I manage to calm down.

"Admit it though," he persists, leaning towards me, "You've totally got the hots for me."

"Shut it, wolf boy," I retort, before practically launching myself at him. His fast reflexes mean he's ready for me, reclining back on the sofa to allow me to lie almost completely on top of him, wrapping his arms around me tightly and moulding my body against his. I can feel my elbow burning in protest between our bodies but I'm so preoccupied with the insistent desire bubbling over in the depths of my stomach that I couldn't care less. His lips press excitedly against mine, responding to my passion in equal amounts and more, his tongue pushing its way into my mouth, filling me with his hot breath. His hand works its' way up into my hair, grasping at the short strands and sending delicious pinches of pain all the way down my back, making my body bow to his will. I mumble his name against his lips, breathy, feverish from his body heat and his mouth travels down to my neck. I can feel his satisfied smile against my skin.

"You smell heavenly," he tells me huskily, that breath of his blowing all the way down my shirt, making my hairs stand on end. "I told you that you wanted me…"

"No shit Sherlok..." He chuckles at my reply, continuing his maddeningly soft kisses until I'm squirming from the intolerable yearning. Suddenly my hairs are standing on end for a completely different reason and even Jacob's body tenses underneath mine at the mindless howling that echoes through the house.

William has changed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey guys!**

**Sorry for the slightly longer than usual delay with updating. It's due to making myself sit down and actually figure out the whole plot before writing any more. **

**Enjoy :) **

* * *

We both sit bolt upright, staring towards the front door. My hand is still pressed to Jacob's chest and I can feel that even his usually rapid heart rate is now galloping to match my own.

"So much for sound proofing," he comments, the husky tone lost from his voice.

"Will-" I start to rise from the sofa, eyes fixed upon the door, drawn to and repelled by his howl all at once. It was such a sad sound. Sudden images of a wolf very much like Jacob, chained and alone in the dark start to flash through my mind and my heart jolts painfully in response. Jacob rises after me, taking hold of my wrist firmly and halting my path abruptly.

"You do not want to see that," he tells me sharply, shaking his head causing me to frown.

"He sounded frightened, Jake," I reply and he starts to frown in return. "How would you feel, chained up in there?" His features soften at the sympathy in my voice and his grip loosens a fraction, but he still shakes his head again.

"Ros, he's different," he explains, "He's not like the rest of us. He's not some big fuzzy dog who's partial to having his chin tickled." He almost makes me smile, almost.

"How do you know?" I retort, trying to maintain my annoyance at having him forbid me to leave, "I thought his sort of werewolf was new to you?"

"Please," he scoffs, "Do you not think when I started turning into a giant wolf all the time that I didn't do my research?" I'm not sure what to say to that. He makes a good point. We stare at each other for a moment as I try to think of something clever to say, but nothing comes. Instead, I turn, trying to pull my hand from his grip. I should have known it would be pointless, I don't even move an inch. "You don't _need _to see," he insists, instead pulling me closer to him, straight into his warm chest. There, he wraps an arm around my waist and holds me to him, tight. Oh I see, he thinks he can distract me with his sculpted, chiselled torso... his broad, hard shoulders… No!

I pull away from the kiss he's leaning down to plant upon me, shaking my head.

"Maybe I do need to see!" I exclaim and Jacob looks slightly taken aback by my indignant squeaking. Maybe he's not used to having women pull away when he's trying to kiss him. Well, who would? Oh right, me. "You've sucked me into this weird, mythical creature world of yours. The agreement was that I should know what I'm dealing with here," I remind him. He releases his grip on me with a growl, waving his hands in the air in frustration and even though I'm now free I find myself grieving the loss of his body heat.

"You're dealing with someone that wouldn't think twice before ripping you into pieces," he tells me bluntly, eyes hard, "And you can't always rely on me always being able to protect you." I match his steely glare before turning away, and even though I know I'm being completely unreasonable and that Jacob only wants to keep me from harm, I still start to walk towards the door again out of pure stubbornness. "Forget it," he snaps, wrapping both arms around my stomach and picking me up off the floor. I kick my legs wildly in response, streaming curse words at him as he carries me away from the door and to his bedroom. Ow, maybe I shouldn't try to hit his arm so hard. I think that hurt me more than it hurt him.

"Put me down Jacob!" I squeal. His arms only wrap tighter.

"I don't care how stubborn you are, Rosalie," he mutters, and I feel slightly satisfied that at least his voice sounds like he's having to exert himself a little in keeping hold of me, "I don't care if I have to sit in the room all night." He places me down gently by the foot of his bed, kicks the door shut with his foot and glowers. "I'm keeping you safe." I huff loudly, letting myself flop onto the bed too hard, not saying anything more. I know when I've lost. It doesn't mean I have to accept it gracefully, though. I can see him looking at me from the corner of my eye but I completely avoid his gaze, staring down at his duvet and picking off pieces of fluff silently, sullenly. A very loud, very exasperated sigh comes from his direction and he stomps out of the room, only to return a moment later holding my bandages. He closes the door behind him again then sits next to me. I childishly shift myself away. A few moments pass in silence and my own curiosity gets the better of me, making me look up at his face nervously. He's smiling!

"What's so funny?" I hiss irately. He casts me a long, sideways glance, still smiling, then shakes his head.

"Just thinking about someone. Never figured I'd turn out like him… suddenly makes a lot more sense." He chuckles and in my own confusion I forget to be annoyed, letting him take my bad arm and start to wrap me back up again gently. When he's finished he places my hand back on the bed, humour forgotten. He still looks vaguely annoyed, his eyes burning. "Get some sleep," he tells me firmly, getting up and then leaning back against the wall instead, arms folded across his bare chest. I sigh as I pull back the covers and then fold myself into them, shuffling out of my jeans once I'm under. Jacob gives the smallest of smiles before switching off the light. The moonlight shining through the window in slits of light barely highlights his form, glinting silver against his flawless skin. He looks perfect, standing there silent and solid as a statue. Our eyes meet briefly in the darkness, his completely black in the dimness of the room. I pull my gaze away and instead I daydream, wondering why on earth I had to be so obstinate and turn what should have been a simple matter of common sense into a childish squabble. I feel my own eyes start to water. I know he can't see, but I still turn over to hide the tears that threaten, squeezing my eyes shut, determined to keep them firmly in my ducts where they belong. Why did I have to ruin it?

Another bloodcurdling howl, more vicious than the first, jolts me awake with a gasp, sitting me upright as my eyes search the darkened room for the source of the sound. It takes a few panting breaths to get past those first few moments after waking where your world only consists of your immediate senses, to remember where I am and what the sound is. I can't say that remembering is particularly comforting.

"Jake?" I whisper, my voice shaking. It's cold now and being half out of the covers isn't helping the jittering that is shaking my hand, too.

"I'm here," comes a soft reply from my right. It's only once he moves that I can vaguely make him out but when he sits I feel the bed sag a little under his weight, hear the covers rustling as they're disturbed.

"Lie with me, please?" I ask, all pride forgotten as I long for his body heat, for the comfort of his arms. How could I have wanted to go out there, to open myself up to even more inspiration for future nightmares? I think one eye-opener of this magnitude is enough for one day. One lifetime. Jacob doesn't say a word, he just slips into bed next to me and pulls me back down into a lying position, facing him, arm draped over my waist. Instant, all-consuming warmth and Jacob's wonderful scent envelopes me as he holds me close, tight. "I'm sorry," I whisper to him as his nose touches mine gently. He doesn't reply, he just presses his soft lips to mine in a chaste kiss.

"Forgiven," he replies simply, the hand that was on my waist reaching up, trailing his hand along my jaw instead. He caresses softly with the backs of his fingers, then his fingertips, the most indulgent of touches and I capture his lips again with my own, feeling almost as though my chest is aching from the depth of longing this beautiful man inspires within me. Maybe it's a wolf thing… being so hypnotic. Maybe it's just a Jacob thing. I knot my bare legs around his own as I relinquish his lips, settling my head against his chest for the night and relishing the contended sigh that falls from Jacob as his chin rests against the top of my head. A safe, comforting sleep soon takes me.

* * *

**For those who didn't quite pick up on the reference, Jacob's line: **

**"Just thinking about someone. Never figured I'd turn out like him… suddenly makes a lot more sense." **

**was a reference back to Mr Edward Cullen and his beloved habit of being just a wee bit over protective now and again ;) **


	13. Chapter 13

"Rosalie, honey, wake up." Jacob's soft voice calling me wakes me smoothly from my dreamless sleep and my eyes flutter open to meet his looking down at me, smiling. "Hey sleepy head."

"Hey yourself," I reply with a yawn. I make sure my hand is clasped tightly over my mouth, no one likes morning breath. It's only as I sit up that I notice that one of my legs is poking out from under the covers, completely exposed and pasty, so I pull it back under quickly with a sheepish grin.

"You do realise that I've already seen all that before," he grins. Thanks for pointing that out Jake. From the burning in my cheeks I'm pretty sure I've gone beetroot red, so I pull the covers right up until only my eyes are exposed. It just makes him grin more. "Plus last night you weren't too shy about hooking those legs right over me." His smile turns distinctly into a smirk as he tilts his head. He leans back, laughing as I try to push him playfully. "Perfect gentleman," he assures, rising from the bed and holding his hands in front of himself, playing innocent. He picks up my jeans from the floor and tosses them to me. "Come on, we need to get to Sam's."

"You do realise I'm going to run out of clothes soon, don't you?" I ask, swinging my legs out of bed and starting to pull them on, one handed as always. I'm really getting the knack of this. He just shrugs casually.

"If you wanna do the laundry, I'm not complaining."

"I'll bet." I grab my rucksack and shuffle past him, heading for the door and the bathroom, delighting in the slight brush of my back against him as I pass.

"I'll go check on Will while you do…" he pauses, frowning at my rucksack, "Girly stuff."

"Yes Jake," I yawn nonchalantly and close the bathroom door. Amazing how a quick wash and a change of underwear can make you feel half human again. My roots are starting to show, though, and shallow as it is, I miss my make-up. I don't think I've been this many days without eyeliner in years.

When I emerge from the house both Jake and William are standing the car. William looks decidedly worse for wear and as I approach I notice that the circles that were present under his eyes yesterday have become even more prominent. He glances at me as I walk towards them and he starts to rub his arm through his loose shirt uncomfortably. I'll bet he could do with some new clothes too. The look I get from Jacob is far more welcoming. He smiles at me and even from several paces away I can feel the heat. What I can't decide is whether the heat is coming from him, or the warm feeling he seems to spark inside of me. Ugh, I make myself sick. From the look on William's face, as he glances between mine and Jacob's smiling ones, we make him nauseous too.

"You can ride up front today, Will," I offer in a way of apology. He just shrugs, and Jacob just looks disappointed. Nonetheless, I get into the back seat for the ride.

"Are you nervous?" Jacob asks as he pulls off and I can't decide which of us he's addressing. William answers, anyway.

"No." His tone is almost defiant, and I can tell by the way Jacob's eyebrows rise in his reflection in the rear view mirror that he William's defensiveness took him by surprise, too. The silence in the car is stifling.

"Was last night really awful?" I ask cautiously. My words are met with a dark chuckle.

"No worse than any other." I lapse back into quiet reflection, settling for gazing out of the windows instead. Either William is really not a morning person, or he has some pretty crappy mood swings. Then again, I doubt I'd be feeling bright as a button if I'd spent all night in chains.

We arrive at Sam's house to find a large group of people sitting out front, some resting on logs, some sitting on chairs, but all dark haired and copper skinned. As Jacob climbs out of the car a woman who looks to be in her mid-thirties with long, wavy hair comes running towards him. From her smile alone I recognise her to be one of Jacob's sisters. Her full lips curve upwards into a toothy grin that could only belong to the Black family as she throws her arms around him.

"Jake," she exclaims as he picks her up the ground, laughing. When he places her back on the ground they start to chatter almost incomprehensibly quickly, exchanging pleasantries, then instantly moving on to teasing and joking with each other. His sister's laugh is almost identical to his own, but higher, more musical. On my approach, she turns to look at me appraisingly and at the same time, two arms wrap around her waist, belonging to a shirtless man, tall and well-muscled. Definitely another wolf.

"Rachel, this is Rosalie," Jake smiles as he shoves his hands in his pockets. He actually looks a little bashful at the teasing look she sends him. She offers me her hand and I shake, wishing again that I had my make up with me. I must look as white as a polar bear to these people.

"Paul has filled me in," she tells me with a sideways glance to Jacob that looks mildly disapproving.

"Yeah… wolf thing, I know," I chuckle nervously. When I look at Paul I notice that he's glaring past my shoulder. A look, and I see that it's William he's scowling at. Paul's hands which clasped over Rachel's stomach start to shake and quick as a flash she turns and whispers something into his ear that is obviously not for anyone else to hear. Jacob just rolls his eyes, takes my hand and pulls me towards the rest of the group. William gives Paul a wide birth, following close behind.

"Same old Paul," I hear Jake mutter darkly.

"Let's keep the introductions quick, Jake," Sam prompts as soon as we're in earshot. Usually I'm quite confident in crowds, but even I start to blush a little under the gaze of so many eyes. I try to hold my chin high and a proud smile starts to grow on my face as Jacob coils his arm around me, helping me stand tall.

"Starting at the left," he begins and then begins to point and reel off names quicker than I can ever hope to remember. "Emily, Sam, Jared, Kim, Claire, Quil, Embry, Seth, Leah, Collin, Brady." Yeah, I'm never going to remember all of those names. The woman next to Seth with the short hair, taller than the rest of the girls, looks at me more closely than the others as Jacob and I find somewhere to sit near to Emily and Sam. I notice Seth elbow her gently in the ribs, and if my lip reading can be trusted, I'm sure he just told her to cut it out. It's only when they look at each other that I suddenly notice the resemblance. So Seth has a sister. I wonder if she too shares in Seth's hero worship of Jacob. The thought makes my stomach tighten in a pang of irrational jealousy.

As William approaches the pack circle all eyes fall on him and several noses start to wrinkle once more as they catch the scent of something unnatural to them.

"What is that _smell?_" The one named Jared asks, obviously somewhat lacking in the art of subtlety.

"Told you," quips Quil quietly as Paul and Rachel rejoin us.

"Enough," Sam silences with a raise of his hand. "You all know what was said yesterday." Several heads nod in agreement, eyes flickering between William and Sam. "So let's hear the rest." William shrugs weakly, looking to the floor.

"I don't know what else to tell you…" he says meekly.

"You said they use silver bullets," the tallest of the pack speaks up, small eyes, lean face. "What else, are they human? Any other special skills we should know about?"

"That's if we should even let him stay here," Paul speaks up, his tone confrontational, eyes staring accusingly at Will, "He's a danger to everyone if he gets out. We should make him leave."

"I agree," Jared pipes up, and the woman next to him nods her head enthusiastically.

"Let him speak!" Sam interjects once more, voice becoming louder, domineering. William uncurls himself from his almost fetal sitting position and draws in a breath to talk.

"Yes, they're human," he rasps, "And yes, they use lots of silver. They're real purists." He rolls his eyes, his voice taking on that once more disdainful tone, "Either that or they go straight for the heart or brain." I notice Claire's nose wrinkle in disgust.

"And what is it you want us to do?" Seth's sister asks. Her voice is a little nasal, and cutting.

"Kill them!" William exclaims, and it's the first time I hear him speak with any kind of enthusiasm at all, the first time he's smiled and looks like he really means it, even if it does look somewhat unsettling.

"We don't kill," Jacob pipes up next to me, "We're not that kind of monster." I glance at him. He's smouldering next to me, his jaw tight, eyebrows frowning low over his eyes. I don't think I've ever seen him look quite so sexy. He never takes his eyes off William, but a gentle squeeze of my hand lets me know that he's seen me watching. I can't help the little smile that tugs on the corners of my lips.

"Then protect me, at least," William implores. Once again, in his time of need, it's my eyes he's looking at. However, in this large a forum I don't feel confident enough to open my mouth, no matter how much I sympathise with his plight.

"Protection is our game," Seth comments. This time it's his sister that elbows him in the ribs. "Ouch!" Sam, however, nods.

"Protection we can offer." Several faces around the circle don't look very happy about that statement, but all heads nod, reluctantly albeit. "We'll worry about these hunters if and when they appear."

"They will," William pipes up, then seems to think the better of it and looks at the floor again, returning his fingernails to his mouth.

"Jake, can William continue to stay with you?" Jacob nods, but the slight increase in his grip on my hand says otherwise. Granted, Will doesn't exactly come across as the most pleasant house guest. He certainly isn't dripping with charisma or charm, anyway. "The rest of you… I'd like if you could stay close for the time being. If the order does show its face, we might need the numbers quickly." More nods, then everyone falls quiet. I can hear a bird in the trees somewhere, singing out cheerily. What does that bird know of werewolves and hunters I wonder? I bet I'd sing that innocently too, I was so oblivious. Finally, Emily rises from her seat next to Sam, all smiles.

"So who'd like breakfast?" The pack howls and hoots with enthusiasm and soon I'm being practically dragged into Emily's small kitchen by a drooling Jacob who seems determined to get there before anyone else in the circle. I think Emily may have her work cut out for her.


	14. Chapter 14

A few days pass without much event, and by that I mean the absence of any murderous howling or the arrival of more murderous huntsmen. I have, however, been spending more time with a very playful pack of werewolves, whose laughter and liveliness is infectious. I don't think I've ever had any kind of fun that would compare to the last couple of days on the beach. Even William has managed to crack a smile or two. Speaking of William, he seems to have the uncanny sixth sense to know exactly when Jacob and I are otherwise engaged. Either that or he has some kind of buzzer that goes off every time our lips touch. We get five minutes, tops, before William slinks into the room looking sullen.

Granted, he looks a lot more presentable now he has some clothes that actually fit after our shopping trip. His bruises are starting to fade, too, and his appetite could rival Jacob's. Poor Emily seems to spend her entire life in the kitchen. As I stand in the kitchen flipping pancakes, I realise how much I can relate. Otis curls around my ankles, begging for food with a loud, persistent meow.

"You don't want any of this, cat," I mutter. I hear the kitchen door clunk open and a glance over my shoulder reveals a sleepy looking William, his curls in disarray. "Morning Will," I chime brightly. I hear the kitchen chair scrape against the floor as he sits. The batter in the pan hisses in reply.

"Morning," he replies, followed by a very loud and extended yawn. "Where's Jake?" I flip the pancake expertly. All this practise is giving me some mad pancake flipping skills.

"He's gone into town, wanted to speak to… Charlie… someone." I dish up some pancakes on a pre-warmed plate from under the grill and serve them to Will, who gives me a small smile. I notice his eyes drift over me for longer than normal. "What?" I ask, hand on hip.

"That blouse really suits you," he comments, before casting his eyes quickly down to his plate.

"Thanks Will," I reply warmly, reaching over and touching his shoulder briefly in appreciation. He glances at my hand and then smiles back shyly. "You look a lot healthier since you've started eating properly." I plate some pancakes up for myself, leaving the leftovers under the grill for when Jake gets back. Will and I sit eating in comfortable silence, while Otis scratches at the kitchen door. He still doesn't like being in the same room as William, the hair on his back sticks up in a long line along his spine every time he goes near. I hear the front door close and a moment later Jacob comes striding into the kitchen. He's glistening with sweat from the unusual heat, wearing a t-shirt for once for his trip into town, pieces of his hair sticking to his forehead a little. As soon as his eyes meet mine his charming, beaming smile appears, the one I can't resist beaming back to. I'm so in tune with how my body responds to him as he approaches me, bending low to give me a brief kiss on the lips, my muscles clenching, heartbeat racing.

"Mmm, breakfast," he mumbles appreciatively against my mouth. I laugh, swatting him away and point to the grill.

"Under there," I chuckle, trying to ignore William's ever so slightly disgusted expression. You'd think he'd be used to it by now; Jacob isn't exactly shy about public displays of affection. Then again, why should he be? It's his house. "Have fun in Forks?" I ask as he sits at the table and starts to wolf down his breakfast, pardon the pun.

"I went to the station," he starts between mouthfuls, "Saw Charlie." He glances at my quizzical expression. "Chief of police in forks… friend of the family."

"Oh, is everything okay?" I ask, concern pulling my eyebrows down into a frown. He pauses eating for a second and shrugs, looking a little concerned too, eyes glancing towards William.

"He wanted me to know that some guys were asking around at the station. They seemed very interested in whether there'd been any animal attacks lately." We exchange nervous glances and William seems to suddenly lose his appetite, dropping his fork.

"The order," he mutters darkly.

"Maybe." I start to push my food around my plate anxiously, "What do we do?" I ask Jacob. He gives a heavy shrug, still eating. As if anything could put that man off his food.

"Charlie knows about the pack, so he played everything down. If we lay low, we'll be fine." My shoulders sag in relief and I begin to eat again. William looks past the point of having his appetite saved, though. In fact, he looks a little green.

"Excuse me," he burbles out, before pushing back his chair abruptly and running from the kitchen.

"Poor guy," I comment and Jacob grunts in agreement. Sometimes, I get the feeling that he doesn't like William very much. Not that he ever says anything to me, but he seems to always go a little frosty when Will's around. We finish our plates in unison and Jacob looks up at me with a smile and then downs his orange juice in one gulp. "A kiss for your favourite chef?" I ask cheekily, an eyebrow raised. Jacob laughs but doesn't reply, just pulls me onto his lap in one swift movement instead, curls his arms around my waist and begins to devour me as fervently as he did his breakfast. I'm just getting my hand tangled nicely into his hair when the phone begins to ring.

"Ignore it," he mutters against my lips, right before his hot tongue brushes against my own. I press myself against his firm chest and suddenly he pulls me roughly further back on his lap. It takes me a moment to realise that hard mass pressing against my thigh is a consequence of our kissing, and the realisation itself makes my pelvic muscles clench deliciously in reply.

And yet the phone continues to ring incessantly. He pulls away for a moment, resting his forehead on my own so I can see his smouldering eyes, his breathing as ragged as my own. His fingers trace gently along my jaw as I bite my lip and close my eyes, enjoying the soft tickling of his fingertips, until his thumb and forefinger pull my bottom lip from between my teeth and is captured again by his mouth.

And still, the phone is ringing. I pull away, prickling with irritation, amongst other things, and get up to answer the phone, snatching the receiver from its holder on the wall.

"Hello, Black residence," I snap. When I turn to face Jacob he's leaning his elbow on the table, cheek resting on his open palm, grinning at me seductively. My exasperation seems to fade a little as I see his beautiful smile, his dark eyes moving up and down my body appreciatively.

"Is Jacob there?" a voice asks. The voice is decidedly feminine but relatively low for a woman, smooth and sumptuous sounding, like velvet. Immediately, I'm alarmed. Jacob must read my expression at once, because his face crumples into a frown and he gets up from his chair quickly, taking the receiver from my hand without a word. I lean back against the kitchen counter, scowling, picking at the countertop as I watch.

"Renesmee?" Jacob's voice is astonished and awed all at once, his eyes lighting up. The smile that I thought was reserved only for me starts to beam at the phone and I feel my stomach lurch unpleasantly, my scowl deepening with every passing second. Jacob's smile falters. "Oh, honey, don't cry," he placates her gently, "Don't cry Nessie…" I look down at my hand when I feel it start to shake and instead grip the edge of the counter, my knuckles turning white. The shakes just move to my knees instead. "No, no, of course, I'll be there as soon as I can."

What? He'll be where? He's leaving? Now? I can hear my blood roaring in my ears. Before he puts down the phone he makes more promises about being there for her, honey, of course he's there for her. I think I'm going to be sick. He doesn't even bother to look at me before leaving the room in a hurry. I follow, adrenaline carrying me on my shaking legs, to see him rush into his bedroom where he's throwing clothes into a bag.

"Where are you going?" I ask quietly, and I'm ashamed to hear my voice break.

"Nessie needs me," is his simple explanation, as if that's enough. It's only once he finishes packing and meets my watering eyes that he elaborates a little bit further, "She's in bits." He makes to walk past me, but I stand in the doorway stubbornly, devastation turning into fury. I just wish I could stop shaking.

"So you're just going?" I demand, my voice high with incredulity, "You're just leaving?"

"I have to," he snaps, eyes hard, uncaring. He tries to side step me, but I persist in blocking his way.

"What about William? You know, the whole… werewolf, hunter, immediate danger thing?!" I stare at him accusingly but he just avoids eye contact, continually trying to step past me, his muscles twitching. "Jacob!" I shout, trying to illicit a response.

"Move," he yells and suddenly I see his inner animal, the wolf shining through his eyes. It's shock that causes me to move aside, back against the wall. He's almost out of the front door, before he finally turns to me, seeming to calm momentarily. Regret flashes across his features as he looks at my shaking hand. "The pack will take care of everything," he tells me, gentler this time. He starts to leave again.

"What about me?" I whisper, knowing that his sensitive ears will hear me. Suddenly he's in front of me, pulling me into his arms, a move I initially resist, knowing that it'll make me cry. I press my face into his chest, silent tears rolling down my cheeks, and I hate that I can feel my heart calling out to him, clinging in some vain hope that he'll stay.

"I'll be back, I promise," he soothes. And then he's gone. My warmth is gone. I stumble over to the window, my hand pressed against my mouth in some pointless attempt to hold back my tears and watch as his car disappears from view.

I barely hear William calling my name as I slam Jacob's bedroom door and let myself fall into his covers, weeping pitifully.

* * *

**Hey guys! Hope you're still enjoying the story. Just giving you the heads up that I might not be updating until Saturday/Sunday, as I'm working three nights in a row as of tomorrow.**

**I'm really pleased with the amount of views this story is getting, and thank you to those who have left reviews, it's really appreciated :) **

**Much love,**

**Steph x**


	15. Chapter 15

"Rosalie?" I hear William's voice call through the closed door. I don't reply. I stay curled up in my little ball, eyes dry now, facing the wall. "Ros? I'm coming in," he tells me, his tone cautious. I hear the door open, William's footsteps and then the sag of the bed next to me as he sits down. "You're shaking," he comments. I'd kind of lost track after I'd spent the last few hours trying not to register anything my body was doing at all. He covers me over with the duvet and when he sits back down I hear him sigh heavily. A long silence passes as I stare, eyes stinging, at the crack running from the floor all the way up to the ceiling, twisting and turning, widening right there and branching – "You didn't see this coming, at all?" Before I can shut out the feeling, I feel the back of my neck prickle irritably.

"Did I miss some kind of memo?" I ask, shocked by the venom in my own voice.

"Oh come on, it was only a matter of time before his imprint came calling," he scoffs. His what? I turn over in bed, staring up at William who is now leaning back against the headboard, looking grim. He glances down at me, and then pauses when he sees my utter oblivious expression, frowning. "… Did he not tell you?"

"Tell me what?" I ask quietly, feeling the dread of his answer weigh heavy in the depths of my stomach.

"The Quileute tribe… They're well known for their ability to form this unique bond with their… for all intents and purposes… soul mate. They imprint on them." I stare at him incredulously, not wanting to believe the words that are coming from his mouth. "Did you really not notice them all? How nicely coupled up most of them are?" He grimaces at the thought. It all suddenly becomes clear as flashes of the pack run through my mind. Jared and Kim, Sam and Emily, Rachel and Paul… all of them hopelessly, irrevocably in love with one another. The way they never leave each other's sides, the way they look at each other, like there's no one else in the room.

"So Quil and Claire…?" William nods slowly. "But she's…?"

"It can happen at any age. The wolf is whatever their imprint needs them to be. Quil is just Claire's friend. For now." A tiny flicker of hope starts to kindle inside me as I remember Jacob's first mention of Renesmee. The way he said she'd only ever wanted him as a friend. Did that mean…?

"Jake said Renesmee only ever wanted him for friendship," I tell Will hopefully. I recognise pity in his eyes when he looks down at me, casting me a small smile.

"Unless she changes her mind, of course." Oh. I can't quite find the words to reply to that, possibly because I don't want to consider the notion at all. Would he ever come back if she said that she wanted him? Would he even remember me at all under the pull of his imprint? I sit myself up in his bed, trying to hold back the tears that are trying to push their way out again and exhale slowly, noisily. The shift in my position and the disturbance it causes in the covers wafts the lingering, musky scent that belongs only Jacob into the air, and brings with it unwelcome memories. Thoughts of nights spent curled up with my human hot water bottle, his arms around me tightly. No, not _my _Jacob, I remind myself bitterly. I can't stay here.

"I can't stay here," I repeat, echoing my thoughts. I swing my legs out of bed and start to throw all my clothes, new and old, into my backpack. William gets up off the bed, looking alarmed.

"You're leaving too?" he asks, sounding hurt. I nod as I struggle to fit another pair of jeans into the bag. Why did I buy so many new clothes when I have nowhere to put them? "You can't leave me here on my own…" I smile sardonically at the familiarity of this conversation. How pathetic I must have sounded.

"Why not? Abandonment does seem to be the new craze," I retort, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I leave the bedroom without another glance, grab my toothbrush from the bathroom and make for the front door, William following close behind.

"How're you going to drive?" he reasons, gesturing towards my arm, no longer in a sling, but still wrapped tight in a bandage that Jacob lovingly applied. Ugh. I shake my head, throwing off the thoughts.

"I'll manage." My tone is stubborn, firm. William just looks at me hopelessly, his body sagging as I pick up my car keys from the hook by the door. "I'm sorry," I tell him finally, "But there's no reason for me to be here now." I open the door and turn to leave, and then almost jump out of my skin with fright.

Seth and Paul are stood right on the doorstep, Seth's hand up and poised to knock. The three of us look back and forth and at each for a beat and then I remember my purpose in opening the door in the first place. "I'm just on my way home," I tell them. Neither of them moves. Paul's expression is hard to read, but Seth's eyes are soft with sympathy.

"We figured you'd leave, that's why we came," Paul explains, taking a step forward and making me back up into the house away from his towering height.

"We're here to convince you to stay," Seth smiles, stepping inside and closing the front door behind him. I'm about to open my mouth and protest, but Paul takes me firmly by the shoulder and guides me to the sofa.

"Take a seat," he tells me, not really giving me the choice, but pushing me gently down into a sitting position. Seth takes the seat next to me, while Paul backs up and just leans against the fireplace, looking down at me, arms folded. When I glance over the back of the sofa I see William moving away as far as possible while still being able to hear, watching Paul carefully.

"What is this, good cop bad cop?" I ask, my eyebrows raised. Seth laughs, Paul just shrugs. When the laughter has stopped, I just sigh. "So come on, let's get this over with." Seth looks a bit take aback by my blunt attitude, but opens his mouth to try to convince me anyway.

"A few hours after he left, Jake phased. It was the quickest way of letting us know what was going on. Paul and I were on patrol. We saw everything." Seth's face crumples into a frown, sympathy moulding his features again. I look away from his kind eyes, feeling my cheeks redden. How embarrassing, for everyone to see me looking so tragic and needy. For everyone to know about my spectacular abandonment.

"You'll understand then, why I have to go," I reply, fingering the material of the sofa uncomfortably.

"Jacob doesn't want you to leave," Paul pipes up, and his statement enrages me.

"It didn't seem that way when he was yelling at me to move out of his way so he could run along to Renesmee!" I see Seth flinch out of the corner of my eye at my angry tone.

"She's his imprint, he has to," Paul retorts, his voice starting to hint at annoyance too, "Doing anything else would've caused him actual physical pain. You don't understand." No, no I don't understand. Fairy-tale, mythical bonds are completely new to me.

"He could have just explained… he could've told me about the imprint," I say, anger making way for sadness as images of Jacob's car fading into the distance come flooding back.

"He feels really horrible, Ros," Seth consoles, reaching out and placing his hand on top of mine. The size of it, the heat, it's identical to Jacob's. I should pull away, the memory hurts, but my body won't let me. "I saw it, through his eyes. He hated leaving you."

"He still should have told me…"

"He wanted to, but he was scared you'd feel differently about him, that you'd leave." I roll my eyes.

"What girl wouldn't want to live in someone else's shadow every day?" I ask sarcastically, finally pulling my hand away from Seth's. I miss the heat so much it's almost crippling.

"You might not have to," Paul says, "She does this all the time." He sounds irritated, his forehead crumpling into a frown and I hear Seth grunt in agreement. "Something will happen and she'll come crying to Jacob and because of the bond he has to go to her. And then as soon as she's finished using him to make herself feel better, she'll send him back to La Push."

"Telling him he's too needy and intense, maybe they should just be friends." Seth sounds disgusted. He should, it is disgusting. Poor Jacob, being used like that over and over again, by someone he can't help but love, unconditionally. My stomach starts to feel like it's boiling from rage, my hand clenching at my side.

"That's sick," I say through gritted teeth, "So she just breaks his heart, every time?" Seth just nods sadly, whereas Paul looks about as furious as I feel, his arms unfolding, fists balled, knuckles turning white.

"It's torture for the rest of us, too. To see that happen to our brother, again and again. To feel his pain." His whole body starts to shake in fury, and suddenly I remember what Seth told me before about phasing when any of the pack gets too angry. Even Seth looks a little nervous, while William is positively cowering in the corner. "If it wasn't for the bond, I'd tear her apart myself," he growls.

"Paul, go outside," I advise when his shakes don't seem to calm. There's no way I want to suddenly be confronted by an angry, two tonne wolf in the middle of the living room. He nods, suddenly looking a little embarrassed behind his furious expression. Seth waits until Paul is gone before speaking again.

"So will you stay?" he asks hopefully. Do I stay? Should I, when I know that I might forever be second best in Jacob's mind? That at any given moment he might leave again, unable to help himself from answering a hopeless siren call. The thought of Jacob being unhappy and in pain makes my heart lurch unpleasantly, and it's that thought that makes up my mind.

"I'll stay," I agree quietly. He'll need someone when he gets home, if he ever does come home. He'll need someone to help him heal. A voice in the back of my head disagrees bitterly, asking why I should put myself through this hurt for someone I've known only a week. A mental picture of Jacob, smiling as he bends low to kiss me, is more than enough to silence that nasty little doubt. "Someone will need to take care of Otis," I reason out loud, "And someone needs to make sure William doesn't get out." Seth chuckles, looking genuinely pleased at my decision to stay. He rises from the sofa, pulling me up with him and into a squeezing hug. He's not quite as well muscled as Jacob, but his height and the warmth makes it feel wonderfully familiar, and all too brief.

"Come over to Emily's tonight," he tells me, still smiling as he lets me go, "The pack will take care of you, 'till Jake gets back." I smile back at him, nodding my head as he heads for the front door.

"Thanks, Seth," I say gratefully, "Tell Paul thank you too… when he calms down." Seth nods, giving me a final smile before he leaves, jogging away from the house and towards the trees to find his pack mate. I shut the door with a heavy sigh. I'm such a pushover.

* * *

**Hi guys!**

**Sorry it's been a while since the last update - these night shifts have been killing me! I hope this one was worth the wait. There might be a second later today, if you're lucky :) **

**Thanks for the reviews, always appreciated. **

**Much love,**

**Steph x**


	16. Chapter 16

I root around in the sand, looking for the perfect stone, pulling Jacob's jacket tighter around myself, trying to shut out the wind. Here, here's one. Round, flat, perfectly smooth. I wash it free from sand in the waves, trying to ignore the biting cold of the water and then step back a few paces. Perfect aim, pause and… throw! The stone makes a resounding splosh as it hits the water and I sigh. How can it be this hard to skip stones? The Quileute boys never seem to have any trouble. I give up, sticking my hand in my pocket and continuing with my wander along the beach.

Two weeks. Jacob's been gone for two weeks without as much as a phone call home. He hasn't even phased to talk to the pack since he left. Renesmee must be keeping him busy. The thought makes me sneer down at the sand before I forcefully push it away. It's getting harder every day to not feel resentful... and hopeless. The longer he's gone, the more I find myself wondering if he's ever coming back this time. His brothers keep reassuring me that this is normal, that's he been gone for a couple of months before now, but that he always, always come back. The longing for his warmth during the night is becoming a physical ache that stops me from sleeping the whole night through and consequently, I seem to feel tired all the time.

I yawn as if on cue, leaving a salty taste in my mouth from the sea air. I hear the sound of running footsteps coming from behind me and I know the pack well enough by now to know it isn't one of them. The steps are too heavy, too clumsy through the sand.

"Mind if I join you?" Will asks, panting slightly from his run. I nod, smiling, then carry on walking, William beside me.

"Your hairs getting pretty long," I comment, noting that the wind is blowing his hair around almost as furiously as it is mine. He tucks a clump of curls behind his ear, looking embarrassed.

"It grows pretty fast." He starts to chew on his fingernails as we walk along in comfortable silence, accompanied by the continual lapping of the waves against the beach, keeping us company.

"You know, I've known you for a while now, but I don' t feel like I know anything about you at all," I say, turning my head to look at William somewhere under his mass of curls, looking at the floor.

"Well, the pack does pretty much monopolise most of your time," he comments, almost sounding a little bitter in his tone. I smile, ignoring it.

"Yeah… real wolf girl huh?" He chuckles, looking up at me with a little smile.

"I guess so." I spot a piece of driftwood and head towards it. It doesn't look that comfy, but at least it's dry and big enough for two. Sitting, I pat the space next to me.

"Come, sit," I instruct, and he does, still chewing his nails. The guy never seems to stop looking at his feet. "So, where're you from, originally?"

"Milwaukee."

"Oh right," I nod, as if understanding, "I won't even pretend to know where that is or what it's like," I admit with a smile and a shrug and William smiles back.

"You know where Chicago is?" I nod in reply. Sort of, anyway. "It's pretty much north of Chicago, state of Wisconsin."

"Right, right." We both fall quiet again as I stare out into the distance, becoming mesmerised by the waves. Suddenly, William sighs.

"I used to work in investment banking. Lived with my girlfriend, Emma. We had a nice apartment, right by Lake Michigan." I turn to look at William and he has a far off look in his eyes, smiling as he remembers, his hands clasped in his lap. "Things were pretty great," he tells me with a little laugh that soon dies down as he continues, "I used to go rock climbing a lot. Emma went to go visit her parents one weekend, so I went to do some climbing over at Devil's lake and it was while I was there that I got…" He hesitates, frowning.

"Bitten?" I interject helpfully. I feel him tense next to me, his eyes darting from side to side, nails momentarily heading back towards his mouth before he lowers them and clamps his hands between his knees to stop them.

"Yeah. I didn't get home for a week. Emma was going out of her mind, she tried to take me to the hospital when she thought I had a fever, but I wouldn't let her." I pick up a stick from beside our driftwood and start to draw swirling patterns in the sand, trying to dissipate some of the tension his story is starting to create. "I was okay for a while… until the next full moon. I woke up one morning and I was naked, five miles from home… I was so confused. I managed to steal some clothes from someone's backyard and get home… but when I got there… it was all a mess, the apartment door was just hanging open…" He pauses, his mouth clamping shut and I see him swallow hard, his adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat.

"I went upstairs to the bedroom and there was… blood… everywhere…" He looks away from me and I feel the hairs on my arms start to stand on end, and I know that it's not from the wind. A long time passes before either of us says anything. Part of me doesn't want to know any more. "I'd killed her," he says finally and then takes a deep breath which shudders as it comes back out. I look away from him, shocked and appalled but unwilling to share those emotions with William, not wanting to make him feel any more guilty than he already looks. "I'd changed, and I'd killed her." He looks down at his hands and, unable to stop himself any more, he starts to chew on his nails with a new maniacal enthusiasm. I don't know what to say… To kill the one you love... and not even remember… "I knew the police wouldn't understand… I grabbed my stuff and I ran. I haven't stopped running since."

My mouth flounders as I desperately try to think of something, anything to say. What do you say to someone that killed his girlfriend with his own bare… clawed… hands?

"You don't have to say anything," he says past his fingers, "I already know what kind of monster I am…" I'm about to open my mouth to reassure him that I don't think he's a monster, that he couldn't help it, that he didn't know that it was going to happen, when suddenly I hear my name being yelled from down the beach, from the direction of Jacob's house. I turn sharply to see Jared and Seth running full speed towards me and as I stand up and they get closer, I see panic written deep on their tanned faces.

"Rosalie," Seth gasps, coming to a stop in front of me and panting.

"What is it?" I ask anxiously, concern making me reach out and touch his arm. Please don't be about Jake. Please don't let something have happened to Jake.

"It's Sam," Jared tells me, his voice tight with worry. "He's been shot, we need your help." They don't need to say anything else. We start running back down the beach to Jared's motorcycle, leant against the garage. Worry makes me ignore the fact that I've never even ridden on a motorcycle before, I just hop on the back behind Jared and cling on for dear life with my one good arm, closing my eyes tight to shut out the rushing green of the trees around us. It takes barely minutes for us to arrive, and then Jared is pulling me through the door and into the kitchen, where I'm greeted by the sight of Sam lying across the table.

He's covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his massive size dwarfing the table, his legs dangling off the end, feet almost touching the floor. I glance at Emily who meets my gaze with eyes that are clouded with frantic worry, her hands holding the back of Sam's head that's also hanging off the edge of the table.

"What happened?" I ask, pulling off my jacket as quickly as I can with one hand.

"He was out on patrol and the order found him," she tells me, her eyes starting to water before she leans down to press her lips to Sam's glistening forehead.

"The silver's burrowed right into his arm," Jared tells me from behind and as I round the table to inspect the wound, I find a bloody bandage wrapped around his left bicep. Even in the few seconds I stop to look I can see more blood soaking through the material. "He's not healing."

"Please help him," Emily whispers, her voice shaking from the tears that are now spilling down her cheeks unchecked. My heart starts to pound from the familiar feeling of adrenaline as I start to wash my hand in the kitchen sink.

"Seth, boil the kettle and find me something to get the bullet out with, then find some more bandages. Jared, wash your hands and get ready to take off this bandage for me," I instruct and they nod briskly, starting to scurry around under my commands.

"I have some tweezers in the bathroom," Emily says to Seth, and he quickly leaves the room after one more frantic look at Sam's face, contorting in pain. As Jared starts to unwind the bandage, looking somewhat queasy, I look up to Emily, my expression serious.

"Have you called an ambulance?" She shakes her head, tears still rolling down her cheeks, leaving wet dots on her blouse.

"With Dr Cullen gone there's no one that understands… they'd ask too many questions," she tells me, her voice desperate and regretful, her words tumbling out of her mouth too fast for her lips.

"You know I'm not a doctor," I tell her calmly, taking one of her hands, "If I can't fix this, I _have_ to call an ambulance." She pauses for a second, frightened eyes darting across my face before she finally nods, biting on her bottom lip.

"I trust you, Ros," she whispers. As Seth runs back into the room, brandishing a pair of tweezers like some forgotten treasure, I pray to myself that her trust isn't misplaced.

Okay. Here goes.


	17. Chapter 17

As Jared fiddles with Sam's bandage I take his wrist and try to feel his pulse. He's obviously lost a lot of blood; his pulse is pounding so fast that I can barely count it.

"Seth, run those tweezers under the kettle, make sure they're clean," I tell him firmly. Seconds later I hear the sound of running water in the sink and then he hands them to me, wet and hot to touch. As soon as Jared has removed the bandage he steps back, swallowing hard as all of our eyes meet the wound. "Give me some room guys." They back up, moving round the table to stand by Emily, Seth's hand squeezing her shoulder in a silent gesture of support. I lean closer to inspect the wound. Thankfully the bullet seems to have made quite a neat entry hole, entering at an angle and leaving the skin around the wound red and inflamed. I just have to hope it hasn't gone in too far, otherwise these tweezers will be useless. I grasp them with my right hand as best I can and gently insert them into the hole in Sam's flesh, trying to follow the bullet's precise entry into his arm.

He calls out in pain, his face twisting in agony, startling all of us with the first noise he's made since my arrival. I persist, trying to find the silver intruder. There it is! I can feel the difference in texture against the end of the tweezers. I struggle to get a grip on it, trying desperately to ignore the howls of pain coming from Sam and Emily's tears, focusing on the task at hand.

"Damn it!" I exclaim, withdrawing the tweezers, frowning.

"What's wrong?" Sam asks, alarmed.

"I can't get a grip on it with this bloody hand!" I rant angrily. Why did I have to be born left-handed? Better yet, why did I have to sprain my left elbow? "Fuck it," I curse bluntly, handing the tweezers back to Seth momentarily and starting to tear at my own bandage. Once my hand is free I flex my stiff fingers, working the feeling back into them, disregarding the shooting pains from my own protesting elbow. I gesture for the tweezers, and then carefully try again. I have to grit my teeth at the agony coursing through my arm as I have to twist and turn my hand to grasp the bullet but finally, it comes free.

As I pull the bullet from the wound and throw it into the sink I hear a collective sigh of relief.

"Not over yet," I mutter, grabbing the fresh bandages. As I approach his arm, ready to try and slow the bleeding, I have to do a double take. It's already started to slow without me doing anything at all, and when I look closely it's as though I can see the flesh healing and knitting back together before my very eyes. I grab his wrist to feel his pulse, and find that it's starting to slow too. I look up, my expression incredulous, to see everyone smiling down at me. Even Sam seems more responsive, his leg starting to twitch, head turning to the side as murmurs, eyes still closed tight.

"Thank you," Emily gushes, her tone heartfelt, the tears falling from her eyes becoming happy ones as she leans down to plant a long and lingering kiss on his lips.

"Glad I could help," I reply, just as genuine, finally feeling my own body start to relax with relief as the nervous energy flows out of me. Suddenly, I feel completely exhausted. I return to the kitchen sink to wash Sam's blood from my hands and as I do, Seth appears beside me. He reaches into the sink and removes the silver bullet, examining it closely.

"So…" he sighs, "The order definitely knows we're here now." I nod regretfully, drying my hands on a towel and wincing at the pain that reminds me insistently of its presence.

"I think you should stop patrolling," Emily comments, looking up from Sam's face only briefly. "They're looking for wolves, not people. You're only putting yourselves in danger when you change."

"I agree," I respond, ignoring the doubting looks on Seth and Jared's faces. "I'd really rather not have to do this again," I add, smiling, and Jared chuckles darkly, eyes glancing to Sam's now almost healed wound.

"We'll wait until Sam wakes up, then figure everything out," Seth says calmly, reaching out and giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze, "Thank you," he tells me again. I shake my head, shrugging him off.

"I'd do it for any of you." I suddenly start to feel a little nauseous, my stomach turning, vision fuzzy and I quickly excuse myself, exiting to the lounge to sit. As I put my head between my knees I reassure myself that this is probably just a product of my tiredness, a natural crash after the surge of adrenaline.

"Are you okay?" I hear a familiar voice ask. Turning my head to the side, I see William leaning down, looking at me past my legs. Sure enough, given a few seconds my stomach starts to settle and my vision clears, fainting averted. I sit up slowly, giving William a weak smile.

"I'm fine, thank you. Just really, really tired." He smiles back at me.

"You're not sleeping well," he states, telling me rather than asking.

"How did you know?" He shrugs, looking away and into the fire instead of my eyes.

"Sometimes I can hear you moving about in the night." I nod, not bothering to reply and lean my head back against the sofa, closing my eyes. The warmth of the fire against my face feels wonderful and slowly I feel all my muscles begin to relax, moulding into the cushions. I can feel myself dozing, somewhere half between sleep and waking, when William speaks again. "You were wonderful in there," he tells me. I open one eye to squint at him sleepily. "Very brave."

"It was more stupid than brave," I reply through a yawn, "I had almost no idea what I was doing. I work with babies… not bullets." He smiles and shifts over, closer to me, unexpectedly taking my hand. His skin is rough, his fingers calloused and his hand is cold. His normal, human temperature feels completely alien to me now, and I have to stop myself from staring stupidly at his hand covering mine. "His accelerated healing did most of the work… but he could…" William's hand gives mine a gentle squeeze. What is he doing? "He could… er… still get an infection."

"It was still very brave." He shifts even closer to me, wearing an expression I've never seen on his face before. He looks… compassionate… kind. His eyes are hazel; I've never noticed. Then suddenly, I have the half-awake realisation of what he's about to do and I'm so shocked that I'm paralysed with panic. As he leans toward me, his hand gripping mine all the tighter, I find myself unable to move away, to stop this ludicrous move of his. His lips press against mine, icy and hard in their insistence, so unlike Jacob's soft and yielding mouth. For a moment I find myself too horrified to respond, my eyes open wide, but when his hands grip my shoulders I find my senses and try to push him away, my palms flat against his chest. Yet he doesn't stop. His fingers grip tighter as he tries to force his tongue into my mouth, and it's only when I thump my fist against his chest with all the strength I can muster that he finally pulls away. He glowers at me, his eyes that moments ago were filled with admiration now glaring at me in disdain.

"Not the right kind of wolf?" he asks mockingly, moving away from me and getting up, turning to face me in front of the fire.

"I'm with Jacob… you know that," I tell him, not understanding where all this has come from, why on earth he would think that I felt that way about him. I didn't even realise he felt that way about me. He laughs derisively.

"Is Jacob with you?" he asks, tone scathing and unkind. "When he gets back he might string you along for another month or two… maybe you'll get lucky, maybe he'll keep you for a year. But sooner or later, he'll leave you all over again." Ouch. Way to tell it like it is Will… I look away, down into my lap, trying to ignore the truth in his statement. My lack of response seems to infuriate him more, because he storms out of the room, turning back for a moment just to dig the knife in deeper. "And you're pathetic enough to keep forgiving him, every time." He leaves the room and a moment later I hear Emily's front door slam shut behind him. It's only once I'm sure he's gone that I allow my emotions to take their hold, and all my breath comes out at once, shuddering as I touch my lips, feeling utterly confused and wounded.

What the hell was that all about? Maybe he's a lot more screwed up than I first thought. I think back to our conversation on the beach and find myself shuddering again at the memory of his harrowing confession. That's enough to screw someone up alright. Maybe he mistook my kindness towards him as something more… he can't have had many kind words over the last few years. But still… even if it were a mistake, even if he felt embarrassed by my rejection that was no reason for him to be such a jerk.

I lean forward, trying to muster some energy to get up as I rub my tired eyes. I better ask Jared to take me home and just hope that William isn't there yet. I'd rather not face another awkward confrontation. Besides, I think he needs some time to calm down. I'm sure everything will look better in the morning. I'll sit him down over breakfast and sort everything out and it'll be fine. He can't stay mad forever.

* * *

I wake in the night, eyes open and peering into the darkness. I sigh, wishing that I could sleep solidly through, just once while Jacob's not here, and then I turn over, pulling the covers up and over my shoulders tightly. My chest constricts in panic as I spot a large, black shape near the door and I turn over again, frantically reaching for the lamp switch. As the room floods with light I feel a sort of primal relief at no longer being blinded darkness and I turn back over, eyes searching for an intruder. No one's there, but out of the corner of my eyes I notice the bedroom door moving fractionally. I sit up, looking for anything else suspicious and notice the window slightly open too. That makes sense, it was probably just the breeze blowing the door. I get up and shut the window, peering out in the darkness nervously. Trees, nothing more, nothing scary. At least that's what I tell myself as I climb back into bed. Nothing to worry about.


	18. Chapter 18

**Hello everyone!**

**I know you guys are starting to miss Jacob a little bit, and to be honest, I feel the same. But for the sake of plot and character development and yada yada yada, he's not back just yet. It won't be much longer, I promise. **

**Once again, so many thank you's to the readers that have left reviews, really means a lot to me. For the record, I don't like my Renesmee a lot either :P **

**Enjoy! **

* * *

Two weeks. Two more weeks that Jacob has been gone without as much as a phone call home. Part of me wishes that I could lie, make out that the memory of his smile is fading over time, but a lie is all that it'd be. When I close my eyes there's a different world behind my eyelids, one that's made of sepia tones and warmth and Jacob is always there, welcoming me into his arms. The pull on my heartstrings is just as real, the pain of the loss when I open my eyes is just as intense. I still can't sleep through the night, though lately it's not just Jacob's absence that's bothering me. I keep waking with my hairs standing on end, cold all over and afraid. I can't shake the feeling of being watched, but no matter how thoroughly I check, no matter how long I sit with the lights on, there's never anything there.

Since William's outburst things haven't been the same. He's sullen and silent, only speaking to me when absolutely necessary. As if I didn't spend most of my time with the wolves before, I now find every excuse to spend all day, every day at Emily's, knowing that Will won't follow. Awkward doesn't even begin to cover it. One small mercy is that there've been no further incidents since Sam's shooting and the Order seem to once again be fading to the background of everyone's memories.

I take a deep breath as I push open Jacob's front door, bracing myself for William's icy reception. I step inside, clearing my throat to announce my arrival and William glances over his shoulder at me, expression frosty.

"You're late," he informs me, his voice sounding strained.

"I wasn't aware I had a curfew." I head past him to the kitchen to fetch a drink ready for bed, rolling my eyes. Unfortunately, he follows me.

"No, but I do," he sneers, voice cocky, pointing out of the window to the fading sun. Shit. Has a full moon cycle passed already? I place my glass down on the counter and turn to face him, refusing to cower under his glare.

"Come on then," I reply, trying to sound more confident than I feel, before quickly leaving through the kitchen door, out and around the trees to the garage. As we approach the chains together I find myself cringing at the thought of touching his skin, even if it's only to tie him up. I struggle to pick up the heavy chains, only seeing William's silent offer of his wrists once I straighten up again, our eyes meeting uncomfortably in the dim light. I begin twisting the cumbersome chains around his wrists a best I can, smiling ruefully to myself at how much easier Jacob made this look when this was his job. This certainly wasn't how I'd envisioned spending my Friday night, if it is even Friday. All the days seem to blur down here in La Push. A few times around his wrist and then I start to wrap the chains around the nearby concrete pillar. William says nothing as I do all this, he simply watches with a grim look on his face. Long gone is the sympathy I once felt in this situation, now I feel just as grimly determined to make sure he doesn't come free.

Once I've exhausted most of the links I retrieve a chunky padlock from the ground and fasten it securely, hearing the bar clunk into place.

"There, safe as houses," I say with a smile, momentarily forgetting the circumstances amongst my satisfaction of a job well done. Will just stares blankly back at me, then sits himself on the floor crossed legged with a metallic rattle. I take that as my cue to exit, so I do, glad to take my leave.

"Sleep tight," I hear him mutter as I pull the door shut. Well, that's not creepy at all is it? I make my way back to Jacob's house, looking forward to spending an evening without William's disdainful gaze weighing heavy on me.

* * *

I wake in my tent, staring up at the orange polyester from the flat of my back. Muzzy headed and confused, I turn my head to see a discarded chocolate wrapper. More confusion. I sit up and wriggle myself out of my sleeping bag and head out in the night. It's dark, but I can see almost perfectly. I'm back in the clearing on the night of my camping trip, and everything looks completely the same; the placement of the tent, it's slightly wonky tilt. A rustle startles me and I turn sharply to face the sound, heart pounding. Muscles tensed and ready to run, I watch the dark shape emerge from the trees, holding my breath.

"Jacob!" He beams at me from across the clearing, his approach slow and steady. Time hasn't dulled the way my heart responds to his call, lurching forward inside my chest so hard it feels like it might break through my ribs. And then he's here, enclosing me in his arms and it's like he never left. I can't remember the pain, I can't focus on anything at all apart from Jacob, my Jacob, and his all-consuming warmth. "I missed you," I choke out and I realise that my cheeks are wet with tears. He's kissing me and I can barely return them; my mouth is too preoccupied with smiling. And he smiles back and it's wonderful, looking back at me with eyes full of love.

And now he's holding my naked body close to his with a touch so tender as he moves himself inside of me, and instinctively I know we have all the time in the world to be this way together. A million moments to remember every soft sigh, every gentle touch as he traces the planes and hollows of my body with his fingertips. Then suddenly it's wrong, and it hurts and I don't know why. I try to speak and no sound comes out and I thrash and I scratch and push and kick… and suddenly all is still. As his body turns limp and his cold body weight presses down on me, the air in my lungs is crushed out and I struggle with my very last breath to become free, and roll my lover away.

* * *

The sound of my own screaming wakes me, throwing me upright in bed, tears streaming down my face, and even though I know I'm awake now I can't shift the image from my mind in the dark. William's corpse, pale and lifeless, his hazel eyes glazed over in death. I frantically search for the light, but there's no relief for me this time when the lights come on. No light is bright enough to burn that image from my mind, to erase the memory of the weight of his cold body pressing down on me. It takes several minutes of panting breaths and reassuring myself out loud that it was just a nightmare, just a bad dream, before I finally start to calm down. Even now, I can't seem to shake the awful feeling somewhere deep in my stomach that something isn't right. The feeling in my gut only reinforces the logical presumption that this bad feeling is something to do with Will.

I force myself out of bed and get dressed as quickly as I can, trying to ignore the panicked tone the voice in my head seems to be using. What if he got out? What if the order has found him and done something terrible? As I head for the front door I disregard the voice that sounds a lot like Jacob telling me it isn't safe. That I'm being stubborn and stupid. As soon as I open the front door the wind greets me with a cold blast that blows right through my shirt, making me start to shiver instantly as I creep my way towards the garage. My eyes dart in every direction and even though the full moon is casting down its silvery beams, my surroundings are much more hidden than I would like. I wish I had a torch. Something, anything, to make me feel just a tiny bit safer. A little less foolish with every step I take.

The quiet as I reach the garage door alarms me. Surely a werewolf should be making an awful lot of noise? Opening the door, I make sure to swing it wide so that the moon illuminates the inside. I feel like I can't breathe. The tension is making my chest constrict and my legs shake as I peer inside. Nothing. I try to steel myself and force my feet forward another pace, listening hard, hands clutching at the bottom of my shirt to stop the trembling. Suddenly, amongst the quiet, I make out a low grumbling sound coming from directly in front, and though common sense screams at me to leave, that there's no reason for me to be in here now that I know William is still inside, curiosity gets the better of me. I shuffle forward another pace with bated breath, trying to get a better view.

The monster that once was William unexpectedly stands up on its hind legs, its low grumblings erupting into vicious growls as he catches my scent, his full form illuminated in the moonlight. He's nothing like the Quileute wolves. Out of proportion, all long arms and legs and patchy fur, claws and manic yellow eyes, massive jaws and teeth that are foaming at the sight of me. Terror momentarily routes me to the spot and it dawns on me, while I'm stood, wild-eyed and staring, that I've incensed him by being here. The chains around his wrists begin to strain and rattle as he pulls against them, his back legs scrambling furiously against the floor as he tries to propel himself forward towards me.

I turn and run, throwing the garage doors shut behind me as I go. Unadulterated fear means that the only thing I can think of is getting as far away from that monster as possible and as I sprint into the cover of the trees, I realise in horror that this is more his territory than mine. I hesitate, make to turn back and run for the car and then I hear a sound that makes my blood run cold. The sound of concrete crumbling, the crash of chains falling to the floor followed by a long, piercing howl into the night. Too late to turn back, I run further into the forest instead, my legs carrying me faster than I've ever ran before, weaving between the trees and dodging roots and logs with more skill than I ever knew I had. Not fast enough. I can hear his snarls getting closer with each second, only second to the thudding of my heart and I realise that if I keep running, I'm going to die. I stop at the nearest tree and start to scramble up it as best I can. I'm getting higher and higher and if I just keep going I know I'll be okay, I know I can stay here until morning and…

In the split second before I hit the ground, my hand still clutching the traitorous branch that led to my fall, I find myself thinking that Jacob was right; he wouldn't always be here to protect me.


	19. Chapter 19

Ouch, my head. Crap, that hurts. When I open my eyes everything a blur, so I blink, then blink some more as I try to clear to mist from my vision. I'm lying on a sofa, a comfy one, with a pillow under my head, and as my vision begins to return I realise that I'm in what appears to be a basement. At least, that where I presume I am from the lack of windows. I try to sit myself up, wincing at the pain in my neck and realise that my hands are bound tight together with coarse rope, biting at my flesh. Where the hell am I? As I wriggle myself up into a sitting position and my brain starts to throb unbearably against my skull, I try to think back, to figure out why I'm here. There's blood on the pillow. I awkwardly reach up with my bound hands to feel the side of my head, and let out a cry when I do. The side of my head feels sticky with blood that's already clotted and dried. And there's… pine needles in my hair, dirt under my fingernails… and suddenly I remember, and the terror takes me just as hard again as images of scrambling through the forest in the dark comes flooding back. The sounds of my predator, the smell of the damp earth as I hit the floor. Instantly I'm covered in goosebumps, hands shivering as I try to survey my surrounding with a new urgency.

Apart from my sofa, there's very little furniture down here, except for an assortment of various lamps dotted around to light the vast room. I notice a stack of cases on a small table in the corner and then parallel to me, several metres away in a badly lit space… a cage.

"William!" I exclaim loudly, my heart leaping as I spot his naked, filthy body curled up in the middle of the cage, facing away from me. It must at least be morning if he's turned back to his human self. I feel my body sag in relief at knowing I'm no longer here alone. I scramble over to the cage, get down on my knees and holding onto the bars I whisper his name again, once, twice, three times. By the third time I feel my heart start to flutter in panic at his lack of response but when I call again, louder this time, more desperate, I hear him groan in response.

"Rosalie?" he groans, his tone confused. He turns over, still curled in a ball in an effort to cover his nakedness and when his eyes meet mine the recognition and relief is instantly apparent. In a split second, though, his expression turns to panic and he grasps at his cage so ferociously that it makes me jump. "The order," he croaks, his eyes darting past me, looking around frantically. "We have to get out of here, Ros," he gushes, the hand that was grasping at the bar instead taking a rough hold of my shirt. "Promise me," he hisses urgently, "Promise me you won't believe a word that they tell you." I start to nod blindly, trying not to show how much his desperation is alarming me, "Promise me you won't leave me here or let them take me!"

I'm just about to open my mouth to reply when I hear a door open in the distance and William abruptly releases his grip on me, shuffling backwards to the rear of the cage. I turn my head to find the stairs from which the sound of footsteps is echoing and suddenly two men appear in lamp light.

"I wouldn't sit too close to that cage, darlin'," the taller man tells me in an American accent that I don't entirely recognise. Both men are wearing what I'd class as typical hunters clothing; thick materials and furs, sturdy boots on their feet. Both are bald but bearded and well-muscled. The taller man with the greying beard smiles at me as I scuttle back to my spot on the sofa obediently.

"Who are you?" I ask, trying to save braver than I feel. The men don't seem all too concerned with me, their eyes are firmly fixed on William, who's staring defiantly back, albeit chewing on his nails.

"Hasn't little William here told you all about us?" the smaller man jeers, giving the cage a smart kick that sends a loud clang echoing throughout the basement.

"The order of Arcadia," I reply, "Yeah, he's mentioned you." The taller man laughs.

"That's a little official sounding for my taste. You can just call us Jack and Bill."

"There's only two of you?" I ask disbelievingly, suddenly feeling somewhat less threatened now by their small numbers.

"On this side of the Atlantic, anyway," shorter Bill responds somewhat defensively.

"How did you find us?" I ask, concerned that something else might have happened to the pack that's led them to William. "And why am I tied up?"

"It's nothing personal," Jack says, taking a seat next to me on the sofa, "Just couldn't take the risk that you'd try to let out our little friend over there." When he's closer I suddenly spot a tattoo on the side of his neck. The triangle and circle design isn't familiar to me, but I'm guessing it's something to do with membership to the Order.

"You were about to be supper when we showed up," Bill laughs darkly. Suddenly I'm confused as to whether I should be grateful to my captors for saving me, even if they have tied me up afterwards.

"What are you going to do with us?" I ask nervously, glancing towards William who's hiding in the darkness quietly.

"You're free to go whenever you like, darlin'," Jack drawls, "But Mr Baxter here is coming with us."

"You can't," I exclaim angrily, and my ferocious reply seems to take both men aback, "He's under the protection of the Quileute pack, you know, the wolf you shot?" Jack shifts uncomfortably on the sofa, looking away from me.

"We're mighty sorry about that, truly," he says, and against my better judgement, I think he sounds genuine.

"Itchy trigger finger," Bill smiles. I just scowl back at him.

"We've had him locked up every time he's changed, he hasn't done anything wrong!" There's a pause, and then both men start to roar with laughter. Bill laughs so hard that he's bent over double, clutching his sides. I feel my skin prickle with anger more and more with each second that passes. "He's already told me about what happened with his girlfriend, that was an accident!" I shout over their laughter. That gets their attention. Jack gives me a long look, his expression serious.

"Have you really not wondered why the Quileute pack had never heard of us before William showed up on your doorstep?" I just look at him blankly, then finally shrug. I guess I'd just presumed that they didn't know about them, or that the pack was too large for them to take on.

"Don't listen to them, Ros!" William's sudden outburst makes me jump in my seat. I'd almost forgotten he was here.

"Shut up, dog!" Bill yells, kicking the cage again.

"He's been lying to you." Jack's tone is completely matter of face. "Why don't you tell her what you were really doing in the woods when you got bitten, Will?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Will snarls, his face contorted in anger. Jack just sighs, as if weary with the whole business. He walks over to the bags on the table and reaches inside, pulling out a large brown envelope, and then sits back down next to me. Bill stands on my other side and leans down to touch me, causing me to flinch away reflexively.

"Please," he says, his tone sounding gentle for the first time since we've met. I realise he's reaching for the rope. After a moment's hesitation, watching him closely, I offer him my wrists. With a flick of a small knife I didn't even realise he was holding, I'm free. Jack hands me the envelope as soon as I've finished rubbing the revealed tender area. I hold it with both hands, reluctant to open it from fear of what might be inside. A glance at Will shows me his panicked expression, and my gut starts to twist unpleasantly. Suddenly, I think I know what's inside.

I reach in and pull out a small stack of shiny photograph paper. None of my growing suspicions could have prepared me for the image between my hands. A shot of a young woman, lying on the ground in the middle of an unknown room, stripped and bare, eyes wide and staring, skin pale. That alone would be enough. But the thing I can't tear my eyes from is the gaping streak of crimson across her neck, blood surrounding her and soaking the carpet. My stomach turns and twists inside of me more and more the longer I look. I turn it away, to the back of the pile. But now there's another naked woman with her throat slashed, blood everywhere. And another.

"He was a monster long before he changed," Jack tells me quietly. I turn another page, unable to make myself look away, and the next scene is even more horrific. There's barely a woman left to recognise.

"I think I'm going to be sick." I drop the photographs to the floor, knowing that the sigh of another will empty my stomach for sure. Those poor women. Victims of sadistic attacks by a perverted and brutal perpetrator. I lift my eyes from the floor, pushing my nausea away as I meet William's eyes.

"I've never seen those women before Ros, I swear," he gasps, his eyes beginning to water. I falter, looking to Jack at my side. He's frowning and looking up at the ceiling, ignoring everything else.

"Did you hear that?" he asks aloud. Hear what? Bill starts to frown too, tilting his head to the side. "Go up and check," he instructs, and Bill exits quickly and quietly, leaving only the sound of William's ragged breathing.

"Please, Ros, you promised not to listen to their lies!" Tears start to pour down his cheeks through the dirt and I feel my resolve start to soften, my sympathy getting the better of common sense. These pictures could come from anywhere, any time. Nothing proved that William was the one who'd ended those poor women's lives.

Then suddenly something clicks and it feels as though someone has poured cold water down my spine as realisation starts to sink in. William's fury at being rejected, his foul attitude and dark looks, the subtle way my skin has been crawling every time he's been near me.

"It was you," I accuse, my voice coming out as a growl, shocking even myself with my aggression, "You're the reason I've not been sleeping." I get up from the sofa, approaching his cage, my blood boiling in my veins and making me unbearably hot with rage. I'm so angry I can feel tears start to prickle at the corner of my eyes, but I won't cry, no way will I cry and make him think I'm anything but angry. "You've been in my room at night, you sicko!" I scream through the bars. William's startled look slowly begins to morph into a warped and mocking smile before my eyes, and if it weren't for the cage separating us, I think I'd be tearing him apart myself.

My murderous thoughts are interrupted by the sound of frantic footsteps thundering down the stairs and Bill reappears, this time clutching a shotgun in both hands.

"The wolves are here."


	20. Chapter 20

"Don't hurt them," I blurt out impulsively. Bill looks from me to Jack, appearing unsure of what to do.

"We don't want any trouble," Jack says to both of us, lifting his hands up in a gesture of innocence. "You'll have to go out there and explain the situation darlin'." I glance back to William, shuddering as our eyes meet.

"What'll happen to him?" I ask, not wanting to say his name out loud.

"We'll take him back to our facility, make sure he's locked up safe and can't hurt nobody else." Jack folds his arms, looking confident and ever so slightly satisfied by my new-found compliance. I gaze at William a while longer, wondering vainly if there would be any other hope for him, or whether he even deserves anything better, before finally I shrug, defeated and disillusioned. What other hope do serial killers have?

"Alright," I sigh heavily, "Let's get out there. I want to forget all of this." I glance down at the discarded photographs and swallow the bile that rises in my throat in response. "If I can."

As I make for the stairs, William begins to yell.

"You promised me you wouldn't leave me here! You promised! They'll kill me Ros, they'll kill me." I glance back over my shoulder as we ascend the stairs, and William's hate filled face crushed between the bars, his mouth all twisted with rage, is an image I know will stay with me for a very long time. "This is your fault, you stupid bitch! They'll kill-"

The slam of the basement door ends his stream of poisonous words. As soon as we step out it feels as though a massive weight is lifted from my shoulders and I feel relieved to be free of him, away from his hateful eyes. We emerge into the daylight and I feel Bill move closer to my side as I struggle to make my eyes adjust, blinking. As the glare from the sun subsides the whole Quileute pack comes into view, a massive group of fur and teeth, and I realise why Bill stepped closer. He's afraid, so much so that I can almost smell it one him. The pack, however, seems to mistake his proximity, that and his shotgun, for a threat and they begin to growl. Collectively it's an absolutely terrifying sound, for Bill at least. I know better than to be afraid. I've seen these overgrown pups at play, scratched their heads and playfully pulled on their tails.

One wolf leaps forwards from the rest, pawing madly at the ground as it growls, all its russet coloured fur standing on end, and then, without the pack, it begins to run towards us. Bill, panicked, lifts his shotgun in response, and as I'm yelling at him to put it down, recognition sparks somewhere in my brain.

"Jacob, no!" I shout, stepping directly in front of Bill just as he poises to leap. The colossal wolf hesitates, the rest of the pack becoming quiet, and I can see the confusion in his big brown eyes. Just seeing Jacob's humanity twinkling there behind them makes me start to grin inanely, regardless of the situation, and when I glance at Bill he's looking at me like some mad woman.

"It's okay Jake," I smile, reaching my hand out towards him, "There's a lot I need to explain, but these aren't the bad guys." Jacob's head inclines towards the short, bearded man as he regards him suspiciously, and I hear him take a long, deep sniff before he finally moves away and bridges the gap between us instead. He presses his muzzle into my hand, emitting a low, deep rumble from his chest and I can't hold back the happy laughter that starts to pour forth from my lips. He shoves his head against my stomach affectionately and instinctively I lean down and nestle my face into his fur, holding fistfuls of it possessively. He's back. He's really back. Warm and soft and real.

"If we're okay here," Bill interrupts, looking genuinely confused and uncomfortable with our behaviour, "I'll get back inside. We'll be gone by tonight, you won't hear from us again." Thank goodness. I remove my head from from Jacob's furry neck, leaving my hand there instead.

"Thank you for everything Bill," I say gratefully. He just nods and retreats inside without another word. As soon as he's gone the rest of the pack also disperses into the trees, leaving just Jacob and I, standing and staring at each other. After a beat, he pulls away and runs out of sight behind the house. For a second, I panic that he's leaving again, but then I remember his vanishing act when he phased before, and I realise that that's all his absence is for.

He emerges fully dressed and beaming, jogging towards me. I didn't think I'd forgotten his smile, I thought the memory of it was potent enough, but I was so wrong. It hits me like a train, flooring me completely and turning me into some gooey, girly mess as I smile back like a moron. He pulls my body close to him and wraps his arms right around me, his cheek resting on the top of my head and I feel my whole body relax against his, surrounded by his much missed heat, clutching at his t-shirt tightly.

"Rosalie," I hear him sigh against my hair. The sound of his rapid heartbeat is wonderfully comforting, and with every beat I feel the sadness I've felt during his absence being to slowly ebb away. He takes a gentle hold of my chin and tilts me face upward to look at him.

"How's your head?" he asks, inspecting the side of my face and wiping some of the blood away with his thumb.

"Not so bad," I smile, "Better now you're here." Oh Christ woman, cheesy or what? He just laughs. His gentle fingers start to wonder slowly down my arm, tickling.

"What about this?"

"That was all better a while ago." My reply causes him to frown and he makes a little 'hum' noise. He encloses my hand within his own and just looks at me intently for a few seconds, his dark eyes darting around the features of my face. Then he leans in to kiss me, and I feel my pulse start to gallop in excitement.

Suddenly, I hear William's voice in my head, jeering at me, calling me pathetic, and though it takes all my strength, and though it isn't what I want, I pull away very gently.

"Jake," I whisper as he rests his forehead against my own, his eyes portraying his concern at he gazes at me. "We have so much we need to talk about before we head down this road again." He squeezes my hand tight, pauses, then pulls away, sighing. He doesn't let go of my hand, though. He's just about to open his mouth to speak when the deafening bang of a firearm rings through the air. I immediately drop into a couch and Jacob curls his body around me defensively as three more shots fire, but by the second I've already figured out its not us that's in danger.

"Will!" I start to run back towards the house, mouth wide in horror, but before I can take more than a few steps Jacob is restraining me, picking me up off the ground as he did once before.

"It'll be too late," he tells me and as the realisation kicks in I become limp in his arms, all the fight falling out of me. Four silver bullets. Of course it's too late.

"He didn't deserve to die Jake," I whisper as he switches me around in his arms like a ragdoll, until I'm sitting across his arms, close to his chest. "He deserved locking away, alone and miserable and paying for what he did." Jacob starts to walk us away from the house, holding me so carefully you'd think I'm made of porcelain. I see him look at me out of the corner of my eye as I stare into space, and I can tell he's confused. "I promised that I wouldn't let them hurt him."

An unpleasant feeling starts to manifest deep in my stomach, and I soon realise that it's guilt that I'm feeling. Gut-wrenching, horrible remorse. Why do I feel so bad? William was sick and twisted and all kinds of wrong… but I promised. They lied to me. Who were they to judge if he should live or die for his crimes?

"It wasn't your fault," Jake soothes, but it does little to touch my feeling of nausea. I keep staring straight ahead, not really seeing or hearing the things around me. However, when Jacob's house comes into view in the distance, I can't contain my horror.

"They were practically next door," I gasp. Please let them take William's body with them when they leave. They have to bury him, surely? I can't bear the thought of his body just left there in that cage. My whole body begins to shake and shiver at the horrible images that flash in front of my eyes, and I feel Jacob pull me tighter to his chest, squeezing.

"I'll warm you up," he reassures. All I can do is nod limply in reply. I don't think I have the strength to explain that these shivers are coming from my insides, somewhere that even Jacob's warmth can't seem to reach. Jacob holds me in silence the rest of the way, kicking open the front door to his home and carrying me across the threshold. Sam is already sat on Jacob's sofa waiting for us, turning and looking at us anxiously as the door swings open.

"Rosalie, I hope you're not hurt," he says, rising from his seat, face wrinkled in concern.

"Nothing too serious," I smile lamely as Jacob places me gently on the sofa and then takes the seat next to me. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close, trying to calm my frantic shaking.

"I know you're probably tired, but I need to know what happened in there. The pack is anxious, to say the least." He leans against the fireplace, arms folded, his expression expectant but patient. The dread his request inflicts upon me makes my throat feel so tight and dry that I almost choke. I don't want to remember. I don't want to talk about it. I want to forget. I think Jacob must sense my reluctance, because he reaches out and touches my cheek, turning me to face him, looking deep in my eyes.

"It's okay, honey. I'm here now, and nothing is ever going to hurt you again." His voice is fierce with promise, his gaze intense. Oh Jacob. The hurt is on the inside. I pull my eyes away from his, back to Sam, take a deep breath, and begin.


	21. Chapter 21

By the time I've finished explaining I'm completely exhausted. The shaking has stopped, but only because I think I don't have any more emotion left to give. Instead I feel numb and detached as I recall all the details, the pictures of those women that William…

I get the feeling, as I recount William's crimes, that if it weren't for Jacob and Sam's excellent self-control I would have ended up in trouble all over again. At one point Jacob's whole body starts to tremor next to me, his teeth gritted together, but he keeps his cool and eventually calms.

"I can't believe he was such a psychopath," Jacob mutters, shaking his head in disbelief, "I mean, something wasn't right with the guy, I never really liked him but… killing all those women?"

"I'm sorry we gave you the responsibility of watching him Rosalie, I never would have if I'd ever thought…" Sam trails off, looking away from me uncomfortably. I shrug and reply, my voice monotone,

"It's fine. He fooled us all." Jacob and Sam look at each other, some hidden meaning in their glance, and then Sam moves from his place against the hearth, unfolding his arms.

"I'll let you get some sleep," Sam says, making for the door. "I hope you're alright, Ros." I put on my best smile and try to nod convincingly. He leaves, his expression still unsure. Once the door closes Jacob lets out a heavy sigh and reaches over, tucking my fringe behind my ear. He watches me for a moment, the lines on his forehead showing his concern.

"We need to clean you up," Jacob sighs, rising from the sofa and leaving me alone as he enters the kitchen. I think of very little in his absence. I focus instead on the pattern of the sofa fabric, following the lines with my eyes, trailing along them with my finger. Jacob returns with a bowl of steaming water and a flannel and kneels in front of me. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," he instructs gently, dipping the flannel in the bowl and wringing it out before beginning to clean my head wound. It stings, but I try not to flinch as he carries out his careful work. I watch his face as he concentrates, studying ever feature. He truly is a beautiful man. I wonder if he really knows?

"The blood made it look worse than it is," he tells me reassuringly, a small smile pulling at his lips. I nod. He watches me a moment longer, frowning, then sighs. Pushing away the bowl and flannel he cups my face tenderly in both hands, forcing me to look at him directly. "Where are you Ros?" I frown, not understanding the question. I'm right here, aren't I? "It's like my Ros isn't in there." I look at him blankly, and though I can tell my lack of response is making him despair, I can't find an answer to give.

"I'd like to go to bed now," I tell him. He watches me a moment longer, despairingly, and then backs away, releasing me. I lift myself from the sofa and shuffle away towards the bedroom. "Thank you for cleaning me up," I say as I open the bedroom door, managing a small smile.

"You're welcome," he replies softly. As I shut the door, I see him put his face in his hands.

* * *

I scream, shielding my face against the spectres that attack me in the dark, my nightmares following me into waking.

"Jacob, Jacob!" I scream at the top of my lungs, thrashing in his bed, and for a few horrifying moments I think he's left me again, that I'm here alone, fighting against the decaying faces that come rushing at me, their wailing deafening me. I suddenly feel real, solid hands clutching at my arms, and it pulls me back to reality, the hideous faces disappearing into smoke, leaving only Jacob's face peering down at me, alarmed. I sit up in bed and fling my arms around him, shoving my face against his neck to keep away my terrifying visions. "Please don't go, please," I plead desperately. Jacob rubs my back soothingly as he shushes me and waits until my grip on his neck starts to loosen and my shaking begins to subside before he gently lies me back down.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispers, climbing into bed next to me. He has to forcibly remove my iron-like grip from his body so he can remove his t-shirt, then he takes my hands and places them back on his bare chest as he lies down next to me. We lie for a long time just looking at each other, and even without speaking merely his presence seems to calm me. My rapid breathing becomes more even, my head stops pounding quite so hard and even some of my muscles begin to relax as he stares at me adoringly with those chocolate-brown eyes. "I'm so sorry for leaving," he says into the dark, just as I feel myself starting to doze. I open my eyes again to see him looking fraught with regret, frowning, looking away from me. "I kept checking in on you, you know, through the pack's eyes. They really care about you." I smile as much as I can muster, tightening my grip on his chest to let him know I'm listening. "And then when I phased and all their voices were there, screaming that they couldn't find you… I just…" He trails off, his eyes darting from side to side, "I was so frightened. I got here as soon as I could."

"Renesmee was finished with you, then," I comment, and even I'm surprised by how bitter I sound. He doesn't answer, unable to find an adequate reply I think. It takes a long time before he finally does speak, and while he does, his fingers trail up and down my side, down from my breast to my thigh.

"She'd gotten dumped by her latest conquest, that's why she called." He hesitates and then sighs wearily. "That's why she always calls. For a vampire, she really sucks at the thrall thing."

"Sorry, for a what?" I ask, my body stiffening under his touch. More things he's kept from me.

"Yeah, uh, the Cullen family are like… vegetarian vampires." He lets out a nervous laugh under my disbelieving stare.

"Well that's reassuring, to know that my competition could kill me if she falls off the wagon." Jacob seems to sober up at my statement, his expression becoming serious again.

"I told you I'd never let anyone hurt you," he reiterates, his hand reaching up to brush against my jaw.

"I'm not sure you'd have a choice about it." I know my words have upset him, I see it in the little flicker in his eyes, and I hate myself for doing it. I know where all this hostility is coming from. I know it's coming from that black, nasty feeling inside of me, like a pool of tar sitting heavy in my stomach. "Sorry," I whisper, guilt forcing my eyes away from his perfect face. "Guess I'm just feeling jealous," I lie. Well, it's not entirely a lie; it's just that the feeling of jealousy has been overridden with something far more poisonous.

"Well obviously," Jacob grins cockily and I can't help but smile back as a little ray of sunshine breaks through the blackness inside of me. I reach up and touch his face, delicately tracing my fingers along his jaw and he inclines his head towards my hand, smiling happily. "Don't be jealous, nothing happened. Nothing ever happens. She just wants me there to listen and make a fuss of her. She likes the attention." He pauses, looking thoughtful. "I blame Rosalie," he glances at me, "Her aunt. Spoiled her rotten right from the start."

"Did you wish it was different, you know, like Sam and Emily?" He shrugs.

"I guess I just figured it'd turn out like that. Imprint, fall in love, happily ever after." His smiles wryly, "Not so much for me."

"Poor wolfie," I say softly, gently touching the tip of his nose. He grins, taking hold of my hand and kissing the palm.

"Can I kiss you yet?" he asks cheekily, eyes twinkling at me. I nod, smiling, and he leans in and presses his lips against mine, his kiss slow and tentative, fingers lacing through mine. It's lovely, of course it is, Jacob's kiss could never be anything but wonderful, but as I kiss back I can't shake the feeling that something isn't right. My pulse isn't bounding the way it did before, I can't feel my heart pulling me toward him… the ache isn't there. Suddenly the image of William's forceful kiss pushes its way into my mind, and it takes all my self-control to not start shoving Jacob away, to let him finish the kiss naturally, repeating to myself over and over that it's not William, it's not William.

When he pulls away he's still smiling and I'm so relieved that I didn't completely clench up and upset him even more.

"Sleep time?" I ask, trying to sound as normal as possible.

"Sleep time," he agrees, and tucks his head above mine, chin resting atop of my hair. First he lets out a contented sigh, and then what seems like only minutes later, he begins to gently snore. It's adorable, really. But still I can't shake the thought of William out of my mind. I curse him silently in my head for ruining everything, for poisoning La Push for me the way he has, for twisting and contorting my feelings for Jacob. And it's while I lie awake for what feels like hours that I slowly come to a heart-breaking realisation. I don't think I can stay here, not now, not while it's all so fresh. The thought of that basement, with its' horrifying pictures, angry screams and gunshots, being less than a mile away is too much for me. I know the only thing that'll get rid of this horrible feeling inside of me is time, and being here, in tainted surroundings, isn't going to help me. And I won't inflict myself on Jacob when I'm like this. It's not fair on either of us.

I try my best to gentle disentangle myself without waking him, taking just a moment to memorise the feeling of his warm skin against mine, the soft rise and fall of his chest while he sleeps. I dress quickly and throw all my clothes into my rucksack, once again struggling with the fit, and then make my way into the living room where I source out some paper and a pen. I write,

_Dear Jacob,_

_I'm so, so sorry, but I need to go home for a while. Please don't hate me. After everything that's happened La Push just feels tainted. William's ruined it all. It's not your fault, I'm really thankful for what you've done for me and all the time we've shared. But I know that time away from here is the only thing that's going to get rid of this horrible, disgusting feeling inside me and let me forget. Please don't hate me. I'll be thinking of you every day, promise._

_Yours always,_

_Rosalie xXx_

I sneak back into Jacob's room and leave the two post it's on his chest of drawers and then take a moment to drink in his image, try to burn it into my mind. He looks so tranquil while he sleeps and his arms look so welcoming that I almost hesitate, rip up the notes and climb back into bed, but I know deep down that I can't. I take one last, final look at my Jacob then head for the front door, pausing only to scratch a sleeping Otis behind the ears and whisper a soft goodbye. I wonder idly if I'll have forgotten how to drive, it's been so long since I had to. But no, it comes back to me almost instantly, and as I watch Jacob's house disappear from view in my mirror, I can't help but ask myself whether I'll ever see La Push again.

* * *

**Hello all! **

**Just wanted to say thank you again for all the positive reviews I've been receiving! Knowing that you're enjoying the story really gives me the motivation to keep on writing. **

**Now, I know some of you may be concerned that following this development that there's going to be millions of Jacob-less chapters again (I know that's what I'd be worrying about anyway!), so I just wanted to reassure you that that will not be the case. **

**Much love,**

**Steph x**


	22. Chapter 22

"Morning Laurie," I smile over the counter at the portly, graying woman sat frowning at a computer screen. Probably having trouble formatting her letters again; Laurie belongs to a time when office work consisted of typewriters and cardboard folders. She glances up briefly then does a double take and rises from her chair, smiling and clutching her heaving chest.  
"Rosalie, honey, just who I wanted to see!" she exclaims, barely pausing before routing around underneath the counter frantically.  
"I'm guessing your enthusiasm means a busy day for me," I quip, making her giggle.  
"Sorry hon'," she drawls, her southern accent coming through strong. "Got a call not 15 minutes ago from a darlin' sounding girl all the way over in La Push!" At the mention of La Push I feel my heart rate suddenly soar through the roof. Crap. I open my mouth to speak but she carries on anyway, her eyes closed as she concentrates on what she's trying to say. "Now I tried to explain that usually we don't send our midwives that far, but she was so darn insistent that she wanted you specifically Ros, and I just didn't have the heart to tell her no."  
"Does she realise how long it'll take me to get there?" I ask, wondering who this mystery woman could be.  
"Well I told her that hon', but she kept at assurin' me she was no way near popping yet!" I sigh, rubbing my forehead, then shrug.  
"Okay. What's her name?"  
"Erm, Rachel Black, she said." Oh God. "She said she's got all her notes, she's right on date, all nice and low risk. Hardest thing'll be the drive," she jokes, touching my arm. That's easy for her to say. Part of me wonders if there's any way I can get out of going, but it'd just look too unprofessional and open up far too many questions, especially from a good natured gossip like Laurie.  
"Alright," I succumb, hoping that I won't regret it.

Within 10 minutes I'm on my way to La Push, clutching my steering wheel so hard that my knuckles are turning white. I try to tell myself that I shouldn't be nervous, it's just work, but I fail miserably. Since when was Rachel pregnant anyway? I've only been gone 4 months. If she was already showing then she was certainly hiding it well. And anyway, in labour or not, why is she asking specifically for me? I'm sure there are plenty of perfectly good baby catchers in Forks that she could ask. I wonder if Jacob put her up to it.

Jacob... it's been a while since I've let myself think about him. A little smile starts to grow across my face before I usher it away, scolding myself. Since the night I left I've not heard from him, but then I'm not entirely sure what I expected, seeing as he had neither my address nor phone number. Maybe a little part of me hoped that he'd use his wolfie skills to track me down. But no, nothing, not a peep. At least I can safely presume that he doesn't hate me now, after this request. I wonder if he's missed me. I haven't wanted to admit it to myself, but now I'm on my way back I don't mind confessing that I've missed him like crazy.

Don't get me wrong, some time away was exactly what I needed. Even on the drive back to Seattle it had felt like I was slipping out from Williams's grasp. That didn't stop the nightmares though. More or less every night for the first couple of weeks I woke up screaming, crying out for Jacob only to remember where I was and then feel even more rotten. But gradually the nightmares have started to lessen and I don't see those women's faces every time I close my eyes anymore. Starting my job has helped too. Most of the time I'm so exhausted that when I do go to sleep it's deep and dreamless. That definitely helps.

The first weeks were really bad. I kept calling home whenever I could do I could speak to my mum, hoping that somewhere along the line she ask me to move back to England. That way I wouldn't be running home with my tail between my legs, I'd be taking pity on my poor mum's breaking heart. But the longer we spoke, the more it became apparent that I wasn't going to get away that easy. She's so proud of her eldest daughter, she'd say, being so brave and independent. If only she knew. I'm not brave at all.

As my mind drifts back to Jacob I feel all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I've missed his warmth so much. His laugh. That little dimple in his chin and his smile. I catch myself grinning in the mirror in the mirror again, but this time I let it take hold of me. Instead of nerves and dread, I feel little prickles of excitement start to tingle all over me. This is good. This is such a good sign. My body hasn't responded this enthusiastically to anything in months, hasn't sung the way it did in the first days of meeting Jake. Maybe I'll feel that wonderful pull to him again. The longing is definitely there. I guess I just have to hope that Jacob still feels the same.

* * *

The drive into La Push only serves to heighten my excitement as I spot familiar landmarks along the way to the address Laurie gave me. I honestly didn't think I'd be back here again, at least not so soon. I'd thought that the sight of the lush green of Forks and La Push's rocky beaches would bring back horrible memories for me, but it hasn't. Instead, I imagine Quil and Embry fighting in the sand, Claire's indignant screams when she ended up with a face-full and Quil's frantic, grovelling apologies. The width of my smile feels like it might crack my face in two.

The turning to Rachel's address is only two before Jacob's, on the left. The house I approach is small but well maintained, as if it's been freshly painted and out on the porch are two potted trees. That, and a frantic looking Paul. Even before I pull up to the house I can see that his whole body is shaking as he paces back and forth, hands clasped to his mouth. When he spots my car he comes running, barely waiting for me to open the door before he starts talking so fast I can barely understand him.

"Rachel's inside, in the bedroom," he gushes as I quickly grab my emergency kit from the back seat of the car, "She was doing great, we thought we had more time, but now she just keeps shouting... and grunting." Uh-oh. She must be close. I keep my face perfectly calm and just nod as we briskly walk toward the house.  
"Have her waters gone? Was it clear?"  
"Uh, yeah, not long ago. It was just like water." I watch as Paul tries to open the door with his shaking hands. He holds it open, but I pause, surveying his worried face.  
"Are you in control Paul?" I ask gently, "Because now is really not a good time for a giant wolf to be in the room." I give him a little sideways smile, and whereas before he looked like he might try to argue, now he just looks sincere. Worried, but sincere.  
"I'll be better now you're here and you can tell me if everything's okay." That's all I needed to hear. I gesture for him to lead me to the bedroom, and even from the front door I can hear Rachel's low, guttural grunting. "Jacob's here too, just in case." Oh, peachy.

I guess the urgency of the situation is almost a blessing, as it allows me to completely focus on Rachel and her care. There isn't really time for idle, awkward chit-chat. In fact, as I enter the bedroom I don't even allow myself to look in Jacob's direction. Now's not the time to be getting all girly and distracted.  
"Rachel, I'm here sweetheart," I say loudly, placing many hand gently on her back. She's on all fours on the bed, white knuckled and gripping the sheets in only a t-shirt, her long dark hair a sweaty, tangled mess in front of her face.  
"I need to push!" she exclaims, her voice much lower than normal as she pushes her weight down into the bed. I glance around the room. Towels already on the radiator, good.  
"Do you mind if I have a look?" She nods as she grunts again, teeth gritted.

The baby's head is already in sight, and lucky for me it seems to be in the right position.  
"Okay everything looks really good Rachel, so just push when you get the urges, okay? You're almost there." I position myself behind her, placing my hand comfortingly on her lower back and incline my head at Paul, who's hovering by the door looking completely overwhelmed. "You can give her a bit of encouragement if you like," I hint. Paul takes a seat on the end of the bed and starts to run his hands through Rachel's hair. He holds it away from her face and whispers to her intently, maintaining eye contact, and that's how we stay for the next few pushes until in one last glorious gush, out slides baby, all messy and blue and wrinkled, into my arms. Paul's face appears from round Rachel's shoulders, his face glowing when he sees his newborn. I beam back at him.

"Is the baby okay?" Rachel gasps out and Paul looks at me for a reply. On cue baby starts to cry, pinking up nicely, its legs and arms flexing as it makes it disproval of the whole ordeal clearly known.  
"Perfect," I reply emphatically, and Rachel bursts into happy tears, her back shuddering. Even Paul looks like he's tearing up. "You want to come hold, dad, so I can get the cord cut and mum can lie down." "Is it a girl or a boy?" he asks as he gets up and approaches my end of the bed, one of his hands never leaving contact with Rachel's body.  
"Why don't you find out," I smile. We swap positions as best we can in the small space, and as I pass baby over into Paul's massive waiting hands, I give him a little nod in encouragement that he looks like he sorely needs.  
"It's a boy," he chokes out, and Rachel bursts into new floods of tears at the announcement. I take myself away, giving them just that small private moment and busy myself in my kit bag instead, finding my cord scissors.

As I straighten up I allow my eyes to wander for the first time since entering their home, relaxing a little now I know that baby is healthy. Over the top of Rachel's back my eyes lock with the chocolate-browns in the corner of the room. His gaze is so intent, so admiring that I feel myself start to blush.  
"Hi Jacob."


	23. Chapter 23

Despite greeting each other, albeit it slightly awkwardly, it's soon all work again as I make sure the placenta delivers and that Rachel isn't bleeding too heavily. Fortunately, everything seems to have gone perfectly smoothly and both Rachel and her little boy seem completely healthy, if a little tired. As I work, cleaning up all the leftover mess, I'm now very aware of Jacob's eyes watching me intently. You'd think he'd be a lot more enamoured with his new nephew rather than my presence, but no, everywhere I go his eyes follow. Rachel seems to notice too.

"Jake, come over here and say hello," she says, her eyes never once leaving her baby's face. He's tucked right under her t-shirt, close to her skin, eyes closed, fist in mouth and both Rachel and Paul are staring at him as intently as Jacob is at me. Jacob gets up from his spot in the corner and approaches looking a little cautious, and then bends over his sister to get a closer view.

"Kind of an ugly little thing isn't he?" he says, his nose screwing up and I could swear that I hear Paul start to growl. Thankfully Rachel just laughs, swatting her brother's arm playfully.

"Shut up, you'll make him cry." She runs her finger along the little one's nose, smiling adoringly at him. Even Jacob starts to smile as he gently takes one of the baby's pudgy fists in his own. The size difference looks almost ridiculous.

"Hey little guy," he coos gently.

"What are you going to call him?" I ask from my spot on the floor, packing up my kit and then putting away my weighing scales.

"We were thinking Billy," Rachel replies, looking at Paul for confirmation. He smiles back at her, his gaze entirely doting, and nods his head in agreement. Jacob begins to beam with happiness at the two of them.

"Dad would really love it," he agrees, his voice sounding a little choked up, and then I realise why that that's why the name rang a bell.

"That's really sweet," I smile as I pick up my bag from the floor. Now that everything's sorted it's really time for me to leave and let the family get used to their new parent status, as much as I don't particularly want to go anywhere at all. Jacob suddenly looks alarmed, dropping the baby's hand and straightening up.

"You're leaving already?" he asks, frowning. Inside, my heart does a little flip of excitement at his reluctance.

"It's supposed to be my day off, but I thought I'd stay at a hotel so I can check everything's still okay tomorrow." Rachel and Jacob glance at each other.

"Why don't you stay with Jacob instead, it's cheaper," Rachel reasons, sounding just a little too nonchalant and casual for my liking. They are so in this together. My eyes narrow at the three of them.

"You know, sometimes I get the feeling you just had this baby as a way to lure me back to La Push," I comment with a smile, laughing out loud when both Rachel and Jacob turn bright red from my accusation.

"Believe it or not we didn't really plan this quite that far in advance," Paul replies, the only one still looking innocent. Well, maybe you didn't. Rachel seems otherwise engaged gazing at Billy again, avoiding my eyes.

"You're more than welcome to stay," Jacob reiterates softly, a tentative and hopeful look on his face. How could I possibly say no?

"Sure, why not," I agree, trying not to sound overly enthusiastic about it. Inside, my heart is pounding and someone is squealing in glee. I can't believe that after everything he still wants me here. That they all want me here. It's like nothing has changed, and a little voice in the back of my head tells me bitterly that it's more than I deserve. I'm inclined to agree. Jacob's grin is almost excessive, his cheeks dimpling.

"Great," he enthuses, almost bouncing on the spot. Out of the corner of my eye I think I see Paul roll his eyes. Suddenly little Billy starts to cry and both parents practically jump into action to try to soothe him.

"He looks hungry," I comment as he begins to chew on his fist again. Rachel nods and starts to tug hurriedly at the bottom of her t-shirt, getting ready to feed.

"Whoa!" Jacob exclaims, putting his hands up at the side of his face to hide the view. "That's our cue to leave!" I roll my eyes at him.

"You know that's what our breasts are actually for, right?" I comment sarcastically, folding my arms over my chest. He walks around the bed to my side and picks up my weighing scales, trying to usher me out.

"Yeah, great, but I'd still rather not get an eyeful of my sisters." He takes my other bag from my hand and our skin brushes just for a second, but it's enough to make us both breathe in sharply, our eyes meeting. I'd forgotten just how warm his skin feels against my own. God, I miss it. "I'll be outside," he says quickly, leaving the room and pulling the door closed behind him.

"Thank you so much for everything," Rachel says, her tone sincere, looking up at briefly as Billy latches on and begins to suckle, "I'm really happy we insisted on having you here." I beam back at her. It's always so rewarding knowing that you've played a part in a really positive birth experience.

"You're more than welcome," I reply, standing on my tiptoes to get a little look at Billy's feeding. "He looks like he's on really well," I comment reassuringly, "But you know where I am if you need any help before tomorrow." Both Paul and Rachel nod, still unable to tear their eyes away from the baby.

"Thank you," Paul reiterates. I take one last fleeting look at the three of them, a little picture perfect family and then leave them in peace, trying to quell my nerves.

I don't know why I feel so nervous, it's obvious from the way Jacob's been acting that he still wants me around. Maybe that's what's so frightening. I know somewhere deep inside of me is the fear that I'll hurt him again, that even given the chance I still won't ever get back those feelings I had for him right at the beginning. But those feelings are the very reason I need to try. I don't want to go through life wondering if I'll ever feel that way again. No pressure or anything Rosalie, just your future happiness at stake. Don't sweat it.

When I emerge from the house Jacob is leaning against the porch, still holding my bags. When he turns to look at me it plays out in my mind almost like a scene from a cheesy film. You know the one, where the main love interest does this sweeping turn in slow motion, all smouldering and chiselled in his tight t-shirt. Except that instead of smouldering, Jacob's face is plastered with that entrancing smile of his, his eyes twinkling. It floors me.

"What do you want to do for the rest of the day?" he asks. I can't seem to find my tongue. The muscle has gone dead inside my mouth. "We could just go for a walk on the beach, if you want?" I nod at his suggestion, and then suddenly realise that I may have a little problem.

"I'm not really kitted out for the beach," I point out, gesturing down to my pencil skirt and dainty shoes.

"That's okay, you've still got some clothes at mine." And there it is. There's the awkwardness I'd been expecting since I arrived. I try to plough through it, pretending the issue isn't there, even though the way we're looking at each other plainly shows that it is. Me, run away in the middle of the night? Of course not.

"Okay, that's good," I reply quickly, looking down at my feet. "Want me to drive?"

"Sure," he agrees, just as quickly. We both climb into my car in silence, Jacob placing my bags on the back seat and then adjusting his seat to make space for his massive bulk. As I approach the end of the road and indicate to turn right, Jacob clears his throat. "It's left," he corrects. I follow his instructions but glance at him, an eyebrow raised questioningly. "I moved," he tells me. Thank god.

"How did you afford that?" I ask, trying to make conversation, then realising after how rude it sounded. Inside, I cringe.

"I worked at a garage for a couple months and saved up. Kept busy." You and me both, Jake. "Turn right." I do. A few moments pass. "So how's your new job?"

"Good, really good. Most of the women are lovely," I reply.

"Well you looked like you knew what you were doing today." He almost sounds admiring. "Straight ahead here… We were scared you weren't going to arrive in time."

"You and Paul delivering a baby, now there's something I'd like to see," I comment and Jacob laughs, shaking his head. My head is suddenly filled with images of those two rushing around with towels and hot water in their massive hands, falling over themselves in panic.

"No way. You were really amazing. Totally cool." I grin at him, feeling a blush start to rise on my cheeks. "Just right here again," he says, pointing. I turn into a little lane on the right and follow it along, my suspension taking a beating from the dirt track as we bounce up and down. At the end of the lane a little two story house comes into view. Its wooden panels are painted a cheery duck egg blue and it even has its own little garden out front complete with a… white picket fence?

"Bit quaint for you, isn't it Jacob?" I smile. A lovely little blush rises up on his tanned cheeks as he shrugs, trying to look casual. It is very pretty though. It's something I'd buy myself. I pull up next to his car and we both hop out. A beautiful smell of flowers wafts up my nose, so potent that I almost sneeze. "It's lovely," I admire as we step onto the porch and Jacob smiles back at me as he puts his keys in the lock, no longer looking so embarrassed.

When he opens the door I'm slightly taken aback at the sight that greets me. He allows me to step inside first into a small living room with pale yellow walls and plush cream carpet. He's even matched his sofa cushions to the colour of the walls, and it's so clean! "Where's Jacob and what have you done with him?" I ask incredulously, admiring the vase of daffodils on the coffee table. He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck and shrugging.

"It was Rachel really," he confesses, "Since she's moved home she's been doing her nesting instinct everywhere."

"She should get pregnant more often!" I enthuse, grinning at him. He laughs at me, just watching as I walk around the room, touching all the surfaces approvingly.

"Makes me happy that you like it so much," he smiles. I feel my heart start to pound again under his appreciative gaze and for a moment the atmosphere feels just like it used to before he'd come over and sweep me off my feet to kiss me. I hold my breath in anticipation. Instead, he suddenly breaks our eye contact and gestures towards a door at the far end of the room. "The stairs are through there and the guest bedroom is first on your left. All your clothes are in the drawers." I try not to look too disappointed at the lack of smooching. I approach the door then turn back to him.

"Thank you for keeping them… but you could've just thrown them away, Jake," I say, forcing the words through my lips. It's an awkward subject, but it's something that needs saying.

"I didn't want to," he tells me simply, shrugging his broad shoulders. I smile and open the door to the hall, ready to leave. "I'm glad you came back," he says quietly.

"Me too."


	24. Chapter 24

"You know I never realised that you were a natural brunette," Jacob tells me, kicking a rock along the beach as we walk.

"You didn't figure from the eyebrows?" I smile, gesturing to them as I raise them high, looking up at him. He laughs, shrugging his shoulders with his hands in his pockets.

"Obviously I'm not so bright. I like it though."

"Thanks." The sea wind howls, filling the silence that falls between us as we stroll along. I've missed this beach. It's so secluded and peaceful when the pack isn't here, making it wonderful in a totally different way. "So how's it feel being an uncle?"

"You mean once I got over wanting to kill Paul for knocking up my sister?" A laugh bursts through my lips and Jacob chuckles too, eyes twinkling. "I guess it doesn't feel any different yet. Though I'm thinking it's gonna be expensive…"

"You bet," I agree, smiling and pursing my lips at him, "You think you'll want kids of your own one day?" He looks a little taken aback by my question and I realise that he's probably thinking I have ulterior motives for asking. Christ. That's so not what I meant.

"Maybe… I guess. It's never been something I've thought about." He frowns down at his feet, scuffing his toes through the sand. "You must love babies."

"Not so much, actually," I smile. He looks at me quizzically. "I know I bring them into the world and everything, but babies are kind of… noisy and messy." He laughs, nodding in agreement.

"Rachel was pretty messy too."

"The whole thing is pretty horrendous, yeah," I say between giggles, "But I'm sure I'll want one someday." We smile at each other, the crashing of the waves behind us, and as we carry on walking I have to forcibly push images of little tanned toddlers with Jacob's smile from my mind. It's hard though; the image is so cute.

"Come see the rock pools," Jacob says as he inclines his head over to an outcrop of rocks further along the beach. He starts to jog along the sand, going purposefully slow so I can keep up. Ugh, is there anything worse than running on sand? As we approach the large rocks I look down and make out a series of watery pools, some deeper than others, dotted between slippery-looking rocks. Jacob hops with gracious ease from rock to rock, perfectly balanced, and then turns to grin at me, his expression challenging. I put out my arms, trying to aid my balance as I carefully walk from rock to rock, one step at a time, nervously glancing at the water on either side of me. It's not even that deep; it's more the embarrassment of falling in face first rather than hurting myself that I'm worried about.

On the very last step to Jacob's larger rock I have a little wobble as my foot slips on a patch of green slime, but before my mouth can even open to cry out Jacob is already there, taking my hands and keeping me steady.

"Thanks," I smile as he helps me over safely. He looks down at my hands and starts to frown, rubbing his thumbs over the cracked skin.

"What's happened to your hands?" he questions. I quickly pull them away and shove them back into my pockets, giving a nonchalant chuckle.

"It's the cold weather," I lie, "They always get really chapped." He continues to frown at me for a second longer and then he must decide to let it go, because his face relaxes again and he turns to look down at the rock pool nearest to us.

"See the crabs?" he asks, crouching down and pointing. I place a hand on his shoulder to steady myself and crouch down too, getting a closer look. He's right; there are crabs of all shapes and sizes, scuttling about and hiding between the smaller rocks within the pool.

"They're kind of cute," I comment, watching one of the little ones scuttle sideways all the way along the bottom.

"So crabs are cute, but babies are gross?" Jacob teases, his expression playful. I glance over and smile at him.

"That's about right." He laughs at me, but even his laugh doesn't wobble his balance even a bit. He's solid as a rock as always. I stick my finger into the pool and start to swirl, making sure to keep it away from the little crabs, disturbing all the tiny fishes that start to glimmer in the sunlight when they move. It looks so pretty. When I look up I see Jacob watching me intently, a big smile on his face.

Behind all the smiles and the happiness of reunion I know that there's a big awkward elephant hovering around us both, a subject there we're both not talking about, and the longer I'm here the more I feel the words trying to get out, choking me. I inhale deeply through my nose, swallow, and then force them out.

"I'm really sorry for how I left," I blurt, staring into the water, not wanting to see his expression.

"I don't hate you," he replies, "You were pretty insistent on that point." I glance up quickly to see him looking down into the water too, a cute little half-smile on his face.

"It was kind of a main feature wasn't it?" I admit with a repentant sigh.

"I understood why you did, though I didn't like it. Embry had to talk me out of chasing you down." So that's why he never appeared at my doorstep. "'sides, I guess we're even now."

"I guess so." A pause.

"Did it help?" He throws a little pebble into the pool, disturbing all the little creatures, all scuttling frantically.

"Took a bit of time, but yeah, it did."

"Then that's all that matters." We smile at each for what feels like a very long time, until finally Jacob straightens up and offers me his hand, pulling me to standing. "We should get back, the tide will be in soon." And then without warning he picks me up with no effort at all. I squeal, quickly wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as he carries me like a child and practically skips across the rocks. By the time we've hopped to the beach we're both laughing as I cling to him and it's only once he's stopped moving that I realise how intimately our bodies are pressed together and the heat that's seeping into me from him.

And there it is, there's that feeling I'd so missed. My heart starts to flutter and ache, my whole abdomen tightening as he gazes at me, expression soft and admiring.

"I missed you so much," I gush unashamedly, still clinging on tight. His dazzling smile appears, almost blinding me with his pearly whites up so close.

"Of course you did," he teases and I huff, smacking his chest indignantly. He laughs and gently tugs on my bottom lip that's poking out in a sulk. I'm amazed that even with only one arm he holds me perfectly steady. "I missed you more."

"Of course you did," I mimic, making him laugh again. Once again I think he's going to lean in and kiss me, but he doesn't. He puts me down gently instead, just taking my hand as we begin to stroll back. We carry on like that for a little while, before I finally conclude that while we're sharing it's probably best to get everything out in the open. "I still need to talk to you about Renesmee." His expression turns into worry, beginning to frown down at the sand. "If we're going to do this, whatever this," I wave our joined hands between our two bodies, "is… how do I know you're not just going to run off again next time she calls? I don't know if I can handle always being second best," I explain honestly. He cringes at the term, giving my hand an extra tight squeeze.

"I don't know what I can promise," he sighs. That's what I thought. My expression must turn glum, because he abruptly stops walking, turning to me and holding my face in his hands instead, rubbing my cheeks softly with his thumbs. "Hey," he starts, tilting his head, "I know I can promise that I'll try. I don't know what's possible. No one's ever tried to ignore the bond before… no one's wanted to." Is that enough, just the promise that he'll try? On the one hand if he tries and it pays off, I get Jacob and his playful, loving ways all to myself. On the other… well… I'd rather not go down that road again. "Do you want me to try?" he asks softly, his gaze darting around my face, eyes smouldering and soulful. Do I? Do I know what I'm signing up for here? There's only one way to tell.

"Kiss me," I whisper. He hesitates only for a second, surprise flickering across his features, and then leans in slowly. Our noses brush, my breath hitches in my throat, and then his lips press against mine tentatively, lovingly, his hands still cupping either side of my face. As gentle pecks start to turn into something more passionate his hand drifts from my cheek to the back of my neck and the other moves down into the small of my back, pulling me in close, moulding me against him. I feel like my entire being is on fire, and I can't tell whether it's from his body heat or the desire that's flaming up inside of me. I grip the back of his t-shirt, trying to pull myself closer him even though I know it's not possible, my whole body aching with longing. When he moves away I actually groan out loud, taking hold of his belt instead and trying to pull him back. Of course, he doesn't move an inch.

"Should I take that as a yes?" he asks, his expression smug as he looks down at me. I bite my lip and nod at him from under my lashes and he rolls his eyes, putting his hand into my hair and pulling me in again for one more fleeting kiss. He takes my hand again when the kiss ends and we start to stroll back to his house at a leisurely pace, swinging our hands back and forth playfully.

"You're lucky you're a good kisser or I might not be so easily convinced," I comment, making Jacob laugh loudly, and after that we end up teasing each other all the way back home. I swear, his ego is so big it's amazing his neck can even keep his head upright. When I tell him that he just laughs even louder. As we laugh and joke, my heart soaring every time he smiles, I know that the opportunity of being with him is more than worth the risk. As long as he's here and he wants me, I know I'll always be his.


	25. Chapter 25

**Hey guys,**

**Just as a little warning, the next couple of chapters are arranged a little strangely as the upcoming chapter has a rather strong sexual scene. I'm going split it into three parts, so this chapter and chapter 26 are quite a bit shorter than the one in the middle, but I feel that doing it this way makes sure that everyone gets to know what's going on, without necessarily having to read the explicit stuff if they don't want to. I try to keep my steamy scenes as tasteful as possible and I don't use curse words or anything unnecessarily graphic, but I know it's not to everyone's taste, so there you go. **

**On that note, enjoy!**

**Much love,**

**Steph x**

* * *

As we stroll down the little dirt lane that leads to his house Jacob points to a large barn by the side of the road.

"That's where I do all my repairs now," he tells me and then stops walking, his grip on my hand making me stop too. He turns to me, looking hopeful. "Guess it might not be your thing, but do you wanna see what I'm working on?"

"You've seen mine, only fair I see yours," I grin, giving his hand a playful squeeze. He gives me an excited smile then releases my hand and jogs over to the barn door, undoing the combination padlock.

"I can pretty much fix anything if I've got the parts," he tells me as he flings open the heavy barn doors as if they're cardboard. For once, his explanation of his skills just sounds honest and not boastful. "But motorcycles are my favourite."

"I can see that," I mutter as we walk inside. There must be about ten different bikes in here, all in various states of repair. I walk around them all in the dim light, wondering how on earth Jacob knows what goes where on every bike. I'd be hopeless. "Ow!" I shriek as I step on something hard and pointy.

"Sorry!" I hear the click of a light switch and the room illuminates. Looking down, I see that it was the back of a hammer I stood on, one tool in a line of many, all neatly arranged in rows and columns on top of a sheet on the floor.

"This is kind of organised for you, isn't it Jacob?" I smile, pointing down at the floor.

"That's just good sense," he retorts, coming to stand by me, near to a massive beast of a bike. Saying that, next to Jacob it doesn't look that huge at all.

"So what's up with this one?" I ask, hopping up onto the seat, both legs dangling over the one side.

"This one's almost finished." He bends down and starts to point at some point I don't know the name of. "The engine seemed fine and was revving but it just wasn't moving, so I had to disconnect the clutch and…"

In all honesty I start to zone out, hearing his words enough to nod in the right places but not really listening. Instead, my mind is swimming with thoughts of Jacob hard at work, topless and smudged with oil, his biceps bulging as he tightens…

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he suddenly asks, catching me off guard. I realise that I've been staring at him, biting my lip again, and as he moves out of his crouch to standing, I think he's sussed me out. "Manual labour one of your turn-ons Ros?" His voice is suggestive, teasing as he leans forward, putting a hand on either side of me on the seat.

"Maybe." I take hold of the collar of his t-shirt and use it to pull his torso downwards, crushing my lips against his. He responds with equal enthusiasm, his tongue pushing into my mouth, one hand taking a firm hold of the back of my head as we kiss. I completely lose track of the passage of time as I give myself over to him, my skin tingling, pelvic muscles clenching in desire. When I wrap my legs around his waist he groans against my mouth, making my own lips curve up into a smile. I want him.

I start to pull on his belt, fumbling with the buckle and as we pause the kiss to catch our breath Jacob's is ragged, his forehead leaning down against mine. The heat from his body and from his breath is almost overwhelming. He audibly swallows and I pull away to look at his face, which, to my surprise, looks nervous. It's not really the reaction I was hoping to see.

"Are you okay?" I ask, keeping my hands on his belt but no longer struggling with it. He looks almost a little embarrassed, his eyes darting off to the side, pupils dilated.

"Yeah," he replies, voice husky, "I've just not… done anything like this before."

"Oh." And then what he actually means sinks in. "Oh," I repeat with added inflection, dropping my hands from his belt. He pulls an embarrassed half-smile and rubs the back of his neck. "You mean not at all?"

"Nope."

"Never?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Yeah." The one question that rings loudly through my mind is just: how? How has this beautiful man escaped being thoroughly ravaged before? I must be gawping, because he starts to look even more awkward. "There's only ever been two other girls. Bella was just a whole world of no, and then I spent years thinking Renesmee was going the one and when that didn't happen I guess… I guess I've just never gotten around to it." His explanation is hurried and anxious, so I get up from the bike, step closer to him and wrap my arms around his waist comfortingly, smiling.

"You don't need to explain," I reassure, "I'm just surprised. You know, what with you being crazy beautiful and all."

"Well, that's an improvement on 'sort of'," I hear him mutter quietly as I lean my head against his chest. We stay like that for a while, just stood holding each other with while Jacob strokes my hair. Then I feel him take a deep breath and he picks me up abruptly, his hands on my bum, and then proceeds to walk out of the barn towards the house.

"What are you doing?" I ask, wrapping my legs around him for the third time today.

"I'd rather not lose my virginity in a barn," he replies, and the weight of meaning behind his voice alone is enough to make me tingle all over.

"Are you sure you-"

"Don't get all gentle with me now," he grins devilishly and I can't help but grin back, excitement prickling through me.


	26. Chapter 26 - Warning - Lemon

******************* WARNING ********************

******* LEMON CONTENT *******

* * *

Instead of heading for the front door Jacob walks to the side of the house, near the large tree in his garden and I only have a split second to wonder what he's doing before he leaps up into the air. I shriek in surprise as he grasps a branch one-handed and then swings us, feet first, through an open window.

"What's wrong with the stairs?!" I exclaim, feeling like I've had all the air knocked out of me.

"I thought my physical prowess would score me back some manly points," he jokes, giving my behind a playful squeeze.

"Or scare me half to death."

"Oh shut up Rosalie," he growls, and then I'm on my back on a bed that I presume is Jacob's with him on top of me, devouring me ravenously, his large hands all over me. It's hot and intense and his body is heavy on top of mine and I can't get enough, clawing at his t-shirt. He pauses, lifting his body and stripping off his top to reveal his massive, ripped chest and then he starts to tug at my clothes in turn. My coat, blouse and bra are thrown to the floor within seconds, and if it weren't for the fact that I feel so safe with Jacob I might almost start to feel shy at the way he stares at me then, his eyes dark and hungry.

He's on me again, one hand exploring every inch of my skin, cupping my breast, firm but gentle as his mouth starts to trail along my neck then back again to my lips. I can feel that he wants me, and just knowing I have that effect on him is so gratifying, my own body responding in kind. His heat disappears again as he stands at the end of the bed, his chest heaving, breathless.

"Take those off for me?" he asks, and if it weren't for his understandable first time jitters I think it would be more of a command than a request. I grin back up at him as I kick off my boots and unbutton my jeans, then shimmy them off as seductively as I can manage, thanking the Lord that my love of regular personal grooming means that my legs are still passably smooth. All the while Jacob has just stood and watched, his Adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. I take hold of the sides of my underwear and see his mouth open just the tiniest bit in anticipation and I decide to use this to my advantage instead. I smile wickedly at him and leave my underwear in place, instead getting on all fours and crawling to him at the end of the bed.

"I think you need to catch up Jacob," I comment and he laughs, taking his belt in hand. I sit up on my haunches and pull his hands away, shaking my head. "Let me." His eyebrows rise but he doesn't argue, letting me undo his belt and lean forward, placing my lips on his washboard stomach. As I undo the buttons, placing light, feathery kisses along his skin, I feel him quiver and then he kicks off his boots as I let his jeans fall to the floor. When I lean back to inspect my work I can't help but start to grin again. How did I ever get this lucky? His tight boxers are slung low on his hips, flattering in all the best ways and I start to bite my lip once more.

"Happy now?" he asks cockily, glancing down at himself.

"Almost," comes my breathy reply and he smiles down at me as I shuffle my way back to the head of the bed. He climbs after me, a wolf stalking his prey. And then for no apparent reason, as he positions himself on top of me and begins to kiss me, it's like the mood has changed. Instead of fierce, he's tender. Instead of rushing, eager hands, his touch is reverent. It's different but it's still wonderful, and I ache for him just as strongly as before. When he starts to pull down my underwear, his fingers gliding over my skin, he mimics my actions and places his soft lips against my stomach. Try as I may, I end up giggling. But he just smiles up at me anyway, the corners of his eyes creasing and then smoothing out again as he takes in every bit of me with his gaze.

"You're perfect," he tells me wistfully, and before I can scoff in disagreement he's kissing me again. I let him free of his boxers which then fall on the floor with a soft thump when he kicks them off awkwardly and when I touch him, squeezing, he gasps aloud, eyes flying wide. He buries his head against my neck, kissing, nibbling as he pushes against my hand and I can see his shoulder muscles begin to shake. "Rosalie," he groans huskily into my ear, before tugging on the lobe with his teeth. I don't think my own name has ever sounded so sexy before.

My own need starts to become too great as I get more and more aroused by Jacob's breathy gasps and groans. I guide him into position gently, saying his name to get his attention and make eye contact, to check that this is really, truly, what he wants. He doesn't need to say a word, he just instinctively moves inside of me, excruciatingly and ecstatically slowly, his eyes closing, frowning despite his moan of pleasure. He pauses there a moment and we're both panting, my fingernails gripping onto his strong back, and then he starts to move again. Back and forth, over and over in albeit, not the steadiest of rhythms, his whole body shaking.

I don't think I've ever felt so completely encompassed and absorbed by anyone else, ever. Both are bodies are so hot, so tightly pressed together, locked at the mouth and at the hips, I can barely tell where he ends and I begin. He has me completely enthralled, utterly entranced by him. I don't ever want this to stop, because I know I won't ever be whole again now I know what completeness is, how it feels.

He rolls onto his back, pulling me with him.

"Please," he groans, glancing down to where he's asking me to move and pulling gently on my hips. I don't think I could deny him anything at all at this point. I willingly comply, picking up the pace and the rhythm as I grind. The view below me is spectacular, muscles all gleaming with sweat, soft lips open and panting, eyes taking in all of me and then locking with mine. My body that was already scorching all over starts to burn even hotter where we're joined, a fire growing between my legs that gets brighter and brighter until finally it explodes. I see a thousand embers shooting bright behind my eyelids, crying out for Jacob and gripping at his chest, every muscle in my body tensing over and over. I'm still coming down, my body beginning to shake, when I feel his grip on my hips get tighter too. I feel them buckle underneath me, pushing up, upwards, his hand clutching the back of my neck and bringing my body right down to press against his as he climaxes in a series of broken, gasping moans.


	27. Chapter 27

I don't know how long we lay like this, my head against his damp chest, his arms wrapped around me, drowning in ecstasy, our bodies shaking, but eventually I start to come around, my thoughts straightening out. I push myself up on my elbows to look at him and end up bursting into laughter at the totally blissed out expression on his face. His mouth just turns up into a satisfied grin, his eyes staying closed.

"Was it worth the wait?" I ask once my laughter has subsided. His eyes open and he reaches up to brush his hand along my jaw and through my hair, looking at me in a way that can only be described as adoring.

"You were worth waiting for," he confirms. I lean down and place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, my heart so swollen with happiness that it feels like it might explode, pounding hard in my chest. I see Jacob's eyes twinkle, and I know that his playfulness is back because he raises an eyebrow and states, "Pretty awesome for a first try, huh?" I tut, shoving my hand is his face and making him laugh as he pushes it away. I see his eyes flicker down at my body again and that hunger returns almost instantly. "I think I need some more practise," he growls, pushing me onto my back and starting to kiss me all over again.

I think I've created a monster.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed the update guys and that the way I've structured it isn't too confusing - I enjoyed writing it! For those of you who chose not to read chapter 26, I promise you'll get a full, proper update tomorrow. **

**Thank you so much for your reviews, they really make me smile! **

**Much love,**

**Steph x**


	28. Chapter 28

I've been lying awake for hours as Jacob sleeps, just enjoying the view as he gently snores, his face perfectly peaceful. He's wrapped around me, our naked bodies lightly touching, skin to skin and because of his body heat we don't even need a blanket. Jacob alone is enough to keep me warm. The thought makes me smile. He finally wore himself out, just when I was getting worried that maybe his wolf-born stamina was infallible and that I was doomed to spend forever in his bed. Not that that'd be such a bad fate. But he did, eventually, only managing a few murmured lovely words before falling into a deep sleep.

I run a finger along his sculpted jaw, smiling when he lightly stirs beneath my touch. I wish I were so lucky as to fall asleep that easy. I know exactly what it is that's keeping me awake, but I'm reluctant to act on my compulsions here, even more reluctant to leave Jacob's strong arms. But eventually, as I become more tired and frustrated with my eyes for refusing to close, with my brain for refusing to shut down, I have to get up out of bed. He barely stirs as I rise, grabbing his over-sized t-shirt from the floor and pulling it over my head. It smells gorgeous.

I walk as quietly as I can out of Jacob's bedroom, pushing the door behind me so it's only slightly ajar. It takes me a moment to get my bearings, still unfamiliar with the layout of Jacob's new home, and then I head for what I'm pretty sure is the bathroom. It is. I head to the sink and begin to thoroughly wash my hands with soap, grabbing the nail brush and scrubbing with that too under the hot water. Looking up I catch my reflection in the mirror and roll my eyes at my messy bed hair. I look as tired as I feel, bags darkening under my eyes, pushing me to hurry with my routine so I can finally get some sleep.

When my hands finally feel clean I leave the bathroom and creep down the stairs, cringing every time they creak beneath me. Emerging into the living room I almost start to scream as something brushes against my leg. Clamping my hands over my mouth and peering into the dark I realise that it's just Otis saying hello, so I bend down to give him a brief fuss.

"Missed you too Otis, I did," I whisper at him. He purrs in reply then moves away, jumping up onto the sofa and curling up to sleep instead.

I head to the front door and try to open it, turning the handle. Locked, good. The key is in the keyhole, so I unlock then lock it again and check. Then twice more until the door has been unlocked and locked again three times. It's only then that I leave it alone, my compulsion satisfied for now, and then I go back upstairs to wash my hands just once more. I run the water hot and begin to scrub with soap and brush again, and then almost jump out of my skin when I glance up and see Jacob standing behind me in the mirror.

"What are you doing?" he asks, frowning down over my shoulder, looking into the sink.

"Just needed the toilet," I lie with a smile, turning off the tap and grabbing the towel to dry my hands.

"I woke up and you weren't there again," he says, the worry obvious in his voice and the guilt I feel is immediate. "I heard you go downstairs." I hesitate, trying to think of a convincing excuse as to why I'd be down there and as I put the towel back on the radiator he grabs my hands, the towel dropping to the floor. "Your hands are bleeding, Ros," he says, sounding worried and frustrated all at once.

"Oh," is all I can reply, looking down at my hands. The skin is dry, my knuckles cracked and bleeding. It's only once I look at them that the little stinging starts to register.

"What are you doing to yourself?" he sighs, his thumbs rubbing the backs of my hands gently.

"Didn't realise personal hygiene was a crime," I reply, somewhat defensively.

"It's not," he scowls, "But I've seen you wash your hands more times since you've been here than I do in a week."

"I like to be clean," I shrug, pulling my hands out of his gentle ones, turning away and heading back to his bedroom. Please don't push me Jacob.

"You weren't like this before you left," he states stubbornly. I sit on the edge of his bed, putting my face in my hand, signing. When I look up he's sat beside me, looking concerned but waiting patiently for me to speak.

"I just..." I begin, trying to work out how to explain myself without sounding like a weirdo, "Ever since... what happened... happened, I can't sleep properly without checking the doors. If I don't I just get nightmares, all night long." Jacob curls his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him, my head on his chest, still silent. "And I just... I still feel like it's my fault... I just can't get his blood off my hands..." My voice starts to shake the further along in my sentence I get and for the first time in almost five months, I feel the tears coming.

Jacob's other arm wraps round me too, surrounding me completely in his warmth as I begin to sob, my whole body shaking and heaving with the tears that have refused to fall all this time.

"I still hear him screaming at me in my sleep," I cry, burying my head against his chest even closer. I feel ridiculous as I gasp and shudder, sniffing something chronic, but Jacob doesn't say a word. He just strokes my hair and gently shushes me, waiting for me to cry myself out, and the more I cry, the more it helps. It's cathartic, to finally get it all out and grieve for someone I know doesn't necessarily deserve it. It takes a long time for me to stop, my eyes stinging when I do.

"That seemed like it was a long time coming," Jacob sighs when finally all my sniffing stops.

"Uh-huh," I age, my head still leaning on his chest.

"You're not to blame Ros," he tells me, tilting my chin up so I look at him, "You need to stop."

"Uh-huh," I agree again. I know he's right, and my hands really do hurt from all the obsessive washing. Maybe now I've gotten it all out and I have Jacob to chase away the bad dreams it'll be easier to sleep. "I'm so tired," I sigh, rubbing my sore eyes.

"I know honey," he smiles, "I wore you out, poor thing." I roll my eyes.

"You just don't stop do you?"

"Not really," he replies, softening the blow by leaning in and kissing me gently. "Salty," he grins when he pulls away.

"I'm sorry many tears aren't tastier for you," I quip back.

"Should be." He just won't let me have the last word will he? "Let's get you back to bed." He pulls back the covers and inclines his head towards the mattress so I climb in gratefully, letting him tuck me in before climbing into the bed behind me and spooning me.

"Thank you Jake," I yawn sleepily, nestling back against him.

"You're more than welcome," he tells me before kissing the back of my neck gently. I let out a contented sigh and close my eyes, falling asleep in mere seconds.

* * *

I wake to a stream of sunlight pouring in from the window, directly onto the bed and against my eyelids. I blink while I yawn, to see an already awake Jacob smiling at me back at me when my eyes adjust.

"Morning," he says, his voice all croaky.

"And a wonderful morning it is," I reply, smiling back at him. I feel more rested than I have in a very long time. I roll myself on top of him, lying between his open legs, chin resting on his chest and gaze up at him.

"It is pretty awesome," he agrees, tucking a strand of hair being my ear then tweaking my nose playfully. He tilts his head, expression turning thoughtful as I smile up at him.

"What?" I ask, trailing my fingertip along his chest.

"It's just... I've never had any woman look at me the way you do," he confesses. I scoff.

"I think you've been walking around with your eyes closed Jacob," I say, voice full of scepticism, my eyebrows rising. His cheeky smile makes a timely appearance.

"Oh, yeah, well there's plenty of that." Modest as always. I'm just about to roll my eyes when his expression turns serious and thoughtful again, stopping me in my tracks. "I've never had anyone look at me like they really..." He pauses, worrying his lip, "Like they really love me. Only me." Oh.

I know the want to say those words has been pressing against the inside of my mouth, trying to get out, especially in our more intimate or playful moments, but I've been holding them back. I've known that it would be too soon, too impulsive and unwise to go making declarations of love, especially when our future is so uncertain. But apparently it's been written all over my face plain to see anyway.

"Jake... I..." He shakes his head, still smiling and interrupts me before I can finish. Not that I'm even sure what I was going to say.

"If you're not ready to admit it, that's cool, it's pretty obvious anyway." His statement makes me blush and look away as he grins, but he takes hold of my waist and shifts me up his body so my face is directly over his, forcing me to look at him. "But I'm not afraid to say it so... I love you."

I smile so much it makes my face feel like it'll split in two, my heart galloping hard in my chest and the only way I can think to express my gratitude is to hold his face between my hands and kiss the life out of him. I feel his smile against my mouth and when I pull away I run my nose gently against his, my eyes closed.

"I don't deserve you," I whisper before kissing him again, slow and passionate. His hands drift down my back and under his borrowed t-shirt onto my naked behind, squeezing softly. The phone begins to ring and he pulls away with a sigh.

"Hold that thought," he grins, rolling me off and getting out of bed. He glances down at his crotch as he leaves the room and I hear him muttering curses and something about bad timing under his breath.

While he's gone I quickly skip to the bathroom and steal his toothbrush and comb, making myself more or less presentable again for the coming event. I'm tingling all over again already at just the thought. I strip out of his t-shirt and climb under the covers nude, grinning to myself, fidgeting with anticipation as I await his return.

As I hear the stairs creak I turn on my side, practicing my best 'come to bed' eyes, but when he walks back into the room his expression is pained.

"That was Renesmee."


	29. Chapter 29

Panic grips my chest, squeezing like a vice until I feel like I can't breathe and I sit up in his bed, pulling the blankets up to cover myself.

"What did she want? What did you say?" I ask, all the words rushing out of my mouth in one long stream. Jacob takes a seat on the bed, still holding the phone, staring down at it blank faced.

"I promised I'd call her back," he chokes out and I have to wait, impatiently, while he takes a deep breath. When he breathes out, I can hear it shuddering. "She's me to go to Alaska again." My mouth drops open and my hands clutch the covers tight, not daring to speak. There's a screaming voice inside of me though, begging him not to leave. "I don't... I don't know what..." He shakes his head, eyes screwed up tight.

"You promised me you'd try," I say, the sentence coming across more accusing than I meant it to. Jacob does not respond well. He scowls at me, eyes dark.

"I didn't know it'd be this hard," he growls through gritted teeth, "You don't understand, it's agony just to sit here with you." His whole body starts to shake as he glares at me and I hear the plastic of the phone creak in protest as it's squeezed in his fist. I know it's completely foolish, and it goes against everything that my brain is telling me, but I ignore the danger signs and crawl out of the covers, naked and vulnerable, right into his lap.

He looks completely taken aback, his body going rigid for a split second as he recoils away from me, but when I persist, pressing my skin against his, it seems to help. His breathing is still irregular, his Adams apple bobbing up and down, but the shaking has stopped and his expression returns to pained rather than angry.

"I'm sorry you're hurting," I whisper, pressing my fingers to his chest, above his heart. I can feel it thundering under his skin.

"I don't know if I can..." he stutters out, struggling with the words, eyes closed tight. He forces his eyes open to look at me, his gaze fierce. "If I had a choice, I'd choose you," he gasps out and then with a cry of pain curls in on himself so far I have to lean out off the way.

"You do have a choice Jacob," I tell him softly, folding his curled body in my arms, pressing my lips against his shoulder. I can't stand to see him in pain, not when I love him so much. I love him, as irrational and unwise and scary as it is. "I love you, Jacob, I do, I love you," I whisper against his skin, feeling his back heave as he convulses in pain again.

"Renesmee," I hear him choke out, and for one horrible moment I think he's calling out for her until I spot the phone against his ear. "I'm not coming." Another convulsion shoots through his body and he sucks in breath sharply. "I'm not doing this anymore." Tears of relief start to pour down my cheeks, running onto his copper skinned back. I hear the tone indicating the call has ended, but then the phone drops to the floor and Jacob shouts out as his body twists and bends under my grasp, shakes wildly, then goes completely limp.

The weight of his torso feels like it's crushing me and I try desperately to sit him up, relief turning into delirious fear.

"Jacob, Jacob," I call hysterically, trying to shake his shoulders. He doesn't respond. It takes all of my strength, teeth clenched with tears falling, to push him off me and backwards, so his torso is lying back on the bed. Did I push him too hard? Is the imprint so completely ingrained in his nature that contradicting it would kill?

I force myself to calm, to take deep breaths and focus as I would do at the hospital and observe his vital signs. I actually laugh in some sort of crazy relief when I see his chest moving steadily as he breathes and when I feel his pulse it's fast, faster than usual. He's passed out, that's all, his body is just in shock.

Suddenly, I hear the doorbell ring from downstairs. Maybe it's one of the pack, maybe they'll know what to do, or at least be able to get him into bed. I almost run straight out of the room before I remember I'm naked and quickly throw on Jacob's t-shirt and my underwear, then taking the stars two at a time and throwing myself at the front door. When I yank it open Quil and Embry's eyes fly wide, mouths opening in shock. I realise how it must look, answering the door half naked and red in the face, but I don't have time to be embarrassed.

"There's something wrong with Jacob," I gush out, ushering them in then heading straight for the stairs. As I start to run back up, the two men close behind, Embry starts to snigger.

"Damn Ros, you're supposed to go easy on them the first time," he comments suggestively. Quil starts to laugh loudly and as I reach the top of the stairs I turn back and scowl at them fiercely.

"This isn't a joke," I snap, and they both fall silent and serious. "And stop looking at my ass," I mutter as I turn away, knowing Embry will hear me. I let them into Jacob's bedroom first and I hear Quil gasp as he sees him, still lying unmoved, passed out on the bed. They stand over him, worried looks on their faces.

"Hey Jacob," Quil shouts loudly, "Bro!" Jacob doesn't respond. Embry reaches out and slaps him, the sound of the impact ringing through the air.

"Embry!" I yell, outraged. He looks up at me guilty with a shrug, but still, Jacob doesn't wake up.

"What happened?" Quil asks. I suddenly feel ashamed, knowing that I have to admit that this was my doing, that I forced his hand.

"Renesmee called again," I start, and they both groan out loud, as if they understand already.

"He's been talking about trying to resist his imprint for months," Embry tells me, now looking down at Jacob with very little sympathy.

"We all warned him it was unnatural to go against it and that it might be dangerous," Quil says, folding his arms tight across his chest.

"Yeah, but who'd want to imprint on Renesmee? I mean she's hot but talk about issues..." Embry scoffs.

"We don't get to control it, that's the whole point," Quil argues back. Ugh, pack politics. "At least he's still breathing," he comments, glancing down at Jacob again.

"Some bloody help you two are," I bluster angrily, pushing past them. "Can you at least get him on the bed properly?" They glance at me, then to each other, and then each take one of Jacob's legs and swivel them onto the bed. Quil then hooks his hands under Jacob's arms and pulls him upward so his head is on the pillow. At least that looks a little more comfortable. "What should I do?" I ask, biting on my thumb, just watching Jacob's chest rise and fall.

"He'll probably wake up when he's ready," Embry shrugs, "Nothing keeps us down for long."

"And what if he doesn't?" I ask, feeling my eyes start to fill with tears again at the thought. Embry must take pity on me, because he reaches out and puts his arm round my shoulder, pulling me into a very awkward, hot hug.

"Those bridges can be crossed if we get there," he reassures and as he lets me go Quil nods at me too, his expression sympathetic.

"You gonna be okay on your own?" Quil asks, "We should really go tell Sam. You know, just in case." I nod, wiping my eyes.

"Sure, yeah, I'll give you a call when he wakes up." That's it Rosalie, remain positive. Quil and Embry start to leave as I cover Jacob with the blankets, then Quil pops his head back through the door.

"Nice job with Paul's boy, by the way, they're telling everyone you're a pro," he grins.

"Thanks," I smile back, cursing in my head as he leaves. Shit. I'd completely forgotten about going back to check on them today. Yeah, real pro. I can't get her to come here, can I? No, knowing about Jacob will only stress her out. But then can I just leave him like this, alone? I watch him a moment longer... his breathing is really steady, it's not faltered once since he passed out. I guess I leave a note and just make it a really quick visit...

I dress hurriedly in yesterday's clothes, watching Jacob all the while, and then find something to scribble on, explaining where I am and what I'm doing and how thankful I am that he turned Renesmee down. I place a gentle kiss on his forehead before I leave, then sprint down the stairs, grab the house and car keys and lock Jacob inside.

Paul greets me the door, opening it wide but his nose wrinkling as he looks down at me.

"You reek of Jacob," he informs me with an amused smile, and I feel my cheeks become hot and flushed. How embarrassing. I can't think of anything to say, so I don't say anything at all as I walk past him. "Rachel's in there," he tells me, pointing to the nearest door. God, I hope it's only the wolves who have sensitive enough noses to know that I smell of sex. I'm not sure his sister would rather not know.

I manage to make the visit last only an hour, which was tough because Rachel was so happy and talkative, telling me absolutely everything that had happened in the past 24 hours and asking a million different questions along with it. Thankfully it was all pretty straight forward and Rachel and Matthew were both perfectly healthy, so I made my excuses to refuse food and drink and left again as quickly as I could, making more half-baked excuses for why Jacob hadn't come with me to see his nephew.

"Jacob?" I call loudly as I push open the front door. No reply. I dump my bag and run quickly up the stairs, praying to myself that he's still there, just unconscious rather than already heading to Alaska. When I push open the door to his bedroom I let out a thankful sigh at the sight of him, still lying there peacefully.

I decide to take a quick shower while he sleeps, and when I come back into the room half an hour later he's still not moved. I sit on the edge of the bed by his side and spend some time just stroking his face gently and running my fingers through the thick front of his hair.

"Please wake up Jacob," I whisper, starting to get upset again, drops of water trailing down my face from my wet hair and from my wet eyes. No response. I climb under the covers with him, wrapped in my towel, and snuggle up to him as close as I can, my head resting on his chest, leaving droplets of water glimmering on his skin. Maybe if I snooze we can both wake up together. "Please wake up."


	30. Chapter 30

When I sit up after my nap, feeling groggy, I glance at the clock and see I've only slept for three hours, and Jacob still hasn't woken up. My stomach grumbles loudly and I realise how hungry I am. I haven't eaten since yesterday morning, no wonder I'm hungry! As soon as I pull away from Jacob and get out of bed I start to shiver, my damp towel not helping matters and when I glance in the mirror I see my dried hair sticking up at all kinds of angles. My own fault, my mum always told me never to go sleep with wet hair.

I dig out some more of my old clothes from the guest bedroom and dress myself, not bothering with my hair, before searching out the kitchen. Otis is already inside, meowing loudly and circling his food bowl. Poor kitty, he must be hungry too. I find out his food and see to his needs before my own, finally digging out some tuna from the back of a cupboard and putting together a crude sandwich for myself.

I take the snack back upstairs with me, finding the remote for Jacob's small TV that rests on his chest of drawers then settle down on the bed next to him to eat. I put on something easy and mindless to watch and as I'm busily munching my sandwich, trying to savour it and not shove it down all in one, I suddenly feel movement next to me. The covers rustle as Jacob fidgets underneath them, his head turning to the side, nose wrinkled. I watch with bated breath, my mouth still full of sandwich, not daring to chew.

"What the hell is that smell?" he asks, voice hoarse, his eyes flickering open to look straight at me, confused. I swallow my mouthful in one and then grin at him ecstatically, holding up the plate, triumphant.

"Tuna!" I exclaim, starting to laugh, unable to express just how relieved I am that he's awoken. He pulls a face at the sandwich and sits himself up in the bed, wincing as he does it.

"Feel like I've been hit by a train," he mutters, frowning down at his own body. I shove the plate on the floor and gently wrap my arms around his torso, snuggling in close, fighting the urge to fling myself at him. He wraps his arms around me too, his cheek leaning on top of my head.

"I'm so glad you're awake," I gush, giving him an extra careful squeeze.

"How long was I out?"

"The whole day," I explain, turning my head to look up at him, "I was so worried." He leans down and places a soft kiss on my lips then leaves his forehead against mine, taking a deep breath. "I think you've officially beaten my fainting record," I tease and he chuckles feebly, frowning again when something must have hurt. "I'm so sorry Jacob," I apologise, "If I'd have known what would happen I never would have pushed you so hard." He gives a little sideways smile and brings up his hand to touch my face, running his fingertips along my jaw.

"I'm glad you did," he says, looking down into my eyes, "Now we know that I can keep my promise." I smile back up at him, my heart swelling at the knowledge that he can really be mine. No worries about being second best, no fears of sudden abandonment, just Jacob, just me, together. I climb across his lap so I'm straddling him and kiss him so hard that his torso falls back against the headboard, threading my fingers into his short hair. He lets out a little 'oof' as he thuds backwards but he doesn't push me away. Instead he pulls me closer, gripping my clothes. "I was so scared I was going to hurt you," he mumbles between kisses.

"You'd never hurt me," I mumble back as Jacob's lips move to my neck, making me shiver as he plants a kiss just below my ear.

"Say you love me again," he whispers, his hot breath tickling my skin.

"I thought you said you felt like you'd been hit by a train?" I giggle. It's ever so slightly predictable that suddenly his aches and pains have disappeared.

"Rosalie…" I grin up at the ceiling, unwilling to tease him any longer.

"I love you Jacob Black, only you." He growls against my neck and pulls on my clothes, stripping me once more, and soon we're lost again in a frenzy of passion, a world all of our own.

* * *

"You know, I'm not sure it's worth me owning clothes anymore," I comment, peering down at the pile on the floor over the side of the bed. Jacob chuckles darkly, placing a wet kiss on my shoulder-blade, his hand caressing its way down my back.

"You look better without them anyway."

"You would say that."

"Of course." I just smile down at the mattress, resting my cheek on the pillow and closing my eyes, enjoying Jacob's soft ministrations along my skin. His warm hands stroke and tickle gently, my body bending away reflexively when the tickling gets too much, making me giggle. Several minutes go by before Jacob speaks again. "I like having you here," he tells me, voice thoughtful as he traces circles on my skin with his fingertip. I make an 'mmm' noise in agreement. Another long pause. "Move here," he states after a deep intake of breath and my eyes fly open in shock, staring blankly at the headboard, blinking rapidly.

"Pardon?" I choke. His hand disappears from my back and the bed groans in protest as he shifts his weight somewhat roughly to lie by my side, his cheek on the pillow, looking at me with a hopeful expression.

"I mean it, stay here, live with me." My blank gaze turns to him as I struggle for a reply, shocked at this sudden request. "Please?" he smiles, sensing my hesitation.

Could I live with Jacob? My heart is screaming an unabashed yes, but my brain is cautious, clinging onto its love of practicality and logic in the face of whirlwind romance. I love being here with him, I never want to be anywhere else, but would we get on each other's nerves? What bad habits are we hiding from each other that are going to come screaming out when we're with each other every day? What about my job?

"I guess I could ask to switch my shift pattern… work three long days and commute," I reason out loud. Jacob starts to look overjoyed at the fact that I'm even considering it, nodding furiously.

"I can come with you, if you like," he says keenly, "And I can ask if Billy can pull some strings at the hospital in Forks, see if you could transfer instead." His enthusiasm is infectious and soon I find myself grinning back at him madly, excitement tingling all over my body.

"I've never lived with a boy before!" I exclaim, eyes wide.

"So you'll do it?" he asks, as if not quite believing it without absolute confirmation.

"Why not?" I laugh. Jacob grabs hold of my body, rolling onto his back and pulling me on top of him, showering me in kisses, pecking me anywhere and everywhere he can reach, squeezing tightly.

"You make me so happy," he grins, grabbing my face between his hands, "I love you." He places one last noisy, wet kiss on my forehead and then releases his hold, rolling me away again and jumping out of bed. "I can't wait to tell the guys," he says excitedly as he pulls on a clean pair of boxers. Oh god, the pack.

"I was supposed to call them," I groan, pulling myself out of bed. He looks at me quizzically, doing up his jeans.

"When you passed out Quil and Embry showed up at the door. I said I'd call them when you woke up." I start to dress myself, wondering idly how long my clothes will stay on this time. "They weren't very sympathetic, you know."

"I probably wouldn't be if they passed out either," he shrugs. So much for brotherly bonds. Maybe it's a guy thing. "I'll go let everyone know I'm okay," he tells me, still beaming from ear to ear, not bothering with a t-shirt, "Will you make me something to eat? I'm starved! Not tuna though." He pulls a face at the leftover sandwich on the floor and then grabs hold of my cheeks, making my lips pucker so he can kiss them.

"Oh so is this how it's going to be now?" I ask, sticking my hands on my hips. His expression turns sarcastic and silly.

"You've met Emily right?" I roll my eyes and his smile is back, full voltage. He must take my silence for acceptance of his request because he starts to leave the room, all bouncy and excited again. "Thank you," he says, halfway out of the door, then pokes his head back, "Love you."

"Yeah, yeah," I scoff playfully, pulling my jumper over my head. When I can see again Jacob makes a kissing noise at me that I pretend to catch and stick in my pocket, and then he's gone.

It's only when he's gone that I fully appreciate what just happened and what I've agreed to. How on earth did this happen so fast? Is it the right choice? Have I just let myself become caught up in Jacob's ever infectious enthusiasm and done something I'll regret? I wander downstairs, running my hands along the wall, wondering what it'll be like for this all to be mine. Well, no, not even mine, it'll be ours. Once I live here, will anything ever be mine again?

All these different questions run through my mind, but as soon as they come, they're dismissed again. Every possible worry my mind can come up with my heart automatically cancels out, reassuring that Jacob will always take care of me. I'd never mind sharing anything with him, and I think I could forgive him for any annoying little annoying habit he might have with just one flash of that smile. I might even be able to let him make the occasional mess. Maybe I'm being naïve… but I just can't seem to care. Whatever comes, whatever happens, as long as Jacob is there I know it'll be okay. I know we'll be able to work it through. We've come this far haven't we? Overcome werewolves and mystical bonds with vampires…

I decide to make Jacob some sandwiches, fetching out the bread again and scouring the fridge for something he might like. We need to go shopping. Christ, I wonder what his food bill is like? The boy eats more than I've ever seen anyone eat in my life. How he hadn't complained about being hungry before now, I don't know. The phone starts to ring so I have to run back upstairs and frantically search around on the floor for where Jacob dropped it. I find it half under the end of the bed, looking slightly dented on either side, and quickly answer it.

"Hello," I answer, leaving the bedroom and heading downstairs again. I hope Otis hasn't climbed on the counter and started eating Jacob's ham.

"I guess you're Rosalie," a familiar voice says scornfully. My stomach feels like it falls out of me when I realise who the smooth voice belongs to and I struggle to find anything to say, just staring at the wall instead. "Can you put Jacob on the phone?" Her request seems to knock some sense into me and anger flushes through me, white hot fire in my veins.

"He's not here," I state brusquely, "And I think he made it clear he doesn't really want to talk to you." My anger is obviously making me brave.

"Look sweetheart," she snaps, her voice prickly with irritation, "I don't know what lies he's told you to make you think he'd ever want you, but Jacob was _made_ for me. However I want him, we belong together, and sooner or later he'll remember that."

"Not if I have anything to do with it," I hiss, hearing the plastic of the phone creak again in my grasp. This phone is really taking a beating today. "This phone is half mine now, seeing as he's asked me to move in," I add snidely, "And I don't want to hear your voice on it ever again." I end the call before she has chance to reply, slamming it down on the counter, screaming in frustration. The bread for Jacob's sandwiches takes most of the beating, the knife cutting through it as I spread the butter too hard, until finally the fury starts to ebb away. The anger may be gone, but that unsettling sick feeling in my stomach lingers on. Somehow I get the feeling that wasn't the last we'll hear from her.


	31. Chapter 31

"_Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on, livin' like a lover with a radar phone. Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp-"_

"Jacob, what the bloody hell is this?" I ask, pointing towards his radio that's blasting out some bizarre tune at full volume. The lyrics are baffling, making one of my eyebrows rise as I try to comprehend what on earth the man is singing about.

"It's Def Leppard!" Jacob exclaims from behind the steering wheel, as if I should then automatically know who he's talking about. When I don't respond, he glances over at me and my clueless expression. "Oh come on! They're English!"

"Just because it's the same island doesn't mean I automatically know everything that goes on in it," I say, rolling my eyes, "Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually partake in afternoon tea with the Queen." Jacob rolls his eyes in reply.

"But it's Def Leppard! Pour some sugar on me!" he sings along to the chorus, completely out of tune, nodding his head, eyes wide, as if it should spark some recognition. You can't fault him on enthusiasm.

"You know, you singing it doesn't make it sound any better," I smile, trying to hold back laughter. He huffs, turning his gaze back to the road.

"You just don't know what good music sounds like…" he mutters, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Sure I do! It's just the good music I listen to doesn't have strange innuendoes about being hot and sticky," I pause, listening further, "And peaches." Even Jacob can't help but laugh at that and we both start to giggle.

"I guess I have tormented you for most of the journey," he admits, reaching for the radio and switching to a commercial station.

"Yes, yes you have," I agree, "And if this commute is becoming a regular thing, I'm bringing my music in here too." He pouts out his bottom lip and begins to whine like a child, stamping his free foot. "Hey, you asked for this remember? Mister 'please come live with me, I'll commute with you'."

"Holy crap, what have I done?" he gasps sarcastically, his face breaking into a smile again as he glances at me. I shake my head, chuckling, and turn to face the road again.

"You need to be quiet and behave now, I need to direct you," I tell him. He sends a cheeky wink my way, letting one of his hands move from the steering wheel and grab my knee instead, playfully squeezing.

"Yes m'am."

* * *

"David?" I squint towards the curb outside my apartment from afar, trying to make out the man stood there who's leaning casually against the wall. It certainly looks like David. In fact, as we pull closer, I'm pretty certain of it.

"Who's David?" Jacob asks, frowning, his eyes searching to figure out who I'm looking at.

"He's a friend from back home," I reply, "Just pull up over here." I gesture my reserved space just outside the apartment. What on earth is David doing here? "He's supposed to be in Canada…" I mutter. As we pull into the space David's eyes lock with mine through the windshield and his slender face seems to flood with relief, his crossed arms falling away from his chest. He walks down the steps towards the car, his eyes briefly looking over to Jacob as he approaches, and as soon I step out from the car he rushes to me, gathering me up into a tight hug.

"Ros," he sighs, sounding relieved.

"What are you doing here Dave?" I ask against his shoulder, very aware of how close he's holding me, especially when I hear Jacob's car door close somewhere behind us. He laughs, giving me one last squeeze before releasing me, holding me at length by the shoulders.

"I was going crazy with worry," he explains, "You've been all mopey for months, calling all the time, then you just fall off the radar, and your phone's off and I can't get hold of you…" He trails off, ending in a shrug, "Thought you'd been eaten by wolves or something." He smiles, his crooked front tooth showing, and I purse my lips to stop my inappropriate laughter from bursting out. Jacob doesn't seem to manage though, because I hear a stuttered bark of a laugh sound out from behind us, and David's focus leaves my face, looking past me.

"You didn't need to come all this way," I smile, trying to pull David's attention back to me when I spot the suspicious look in his eyes as they look Jacob up and down. "I just left my phone charger at home, that's all. I'm fine." He nods, still distracted.

"Who's your friend?" he asks, letting go of me but then wrapping one arm around my shoulder, tucking me against his body protectively as we turn to face Jacob. Oh god… Jacob, thankfully, is just looking amused, sat on the bonnet of his car, arms folded. I know Jacob well enough by now to recognise that he's tensing, making his biceps bulge underneath his t-shirt.

"This is Jacob Black, he's my…" I hesitate, although I'm not entirely sure why.

"Boyfriend." Jacob jumps on my pause, standing up straight and taking a step forward, offering David his hand. When he's close Jacob towers over him by a good six inches making David, who isn't exactly skinny, look puny in comparison. David takes his hand and shakes, looking confident even though he has to tilt his head up slightly to meet Jacob's gaze, but that confidence turns into a slight grimace just as Jacob's grin becomes even wider, and I can tell by the way David's smaller hand is starting to turn white that Jacob is squeezing far harder than is necessary. There's really too much testosterone flying around here.

"I used to go to the same uni as David before he moved to Canada," I explain. Jacob nods, although he doesn't really look like he's listening, too busy staring David out.

"Isn't that nice?" Jacob responds insincerely, letting go of David's hand and instead offering it to me. When I take it he gently pulls me back to him and adopts exactly the same position as David, his arm around my shoulder. I can't help but roll my eyes. Jacob never puts his arm around my shoulders. This is all some macho play for dominance, and he really needn't be bothering.

"Do you want to come inside? Have you been here long?" I ask. I feel Jacob tense a little bit beside me, but it's not as if I can just send him home, not when he's driven all this way just to check I'm alright. It's quite sweet really, but then David has always been insanely protective of me.

"I only got here a couple of hours ago, but a cuppa would be great," he answers with a grin.

"Okay sure," I smile, sliding myself out from under Jacob's arm, but before I can get too far away he grabs my hand in his and follows me up the steps, still staking his claim.

"Cuppa?" he whispers against my ear as I struggle to open the door one handed, rummaging in my pockets for the keys. There's barely room on the doorstop for both of us; this is getting ridiculous.

"Cup of tea," I whisper back, starting to feel a little irritable, "Can I please have my hand back?" I hiss. He releases my hand, moving down a step away from me so I can finally open the door and step into the communal hallway and then open the front door to my ground floor flat.

I step in and hold the door open for them both, and when Jacob steps through I can't help but notice how deep his frown is. I think I've hurt his feelings a little.

"You told me this place was small Ros, but damn," David murmurs as he comes through the door, his eyes drifting over the compact space.

"It's all I could find with low enough rent that I afford until I started work," I shrug, looking around too. He's right, it is small. My living room and bedroom is the same thing, a sofa bed on one side, parallel to the tv on the other wall. Most of the space is taken up by my massive bookshelf which is stuffed with alphabetised textbooks and stood between two doorways; one leading to my tiny bathroom, the other to my pokey kitchen.

"Rosalie's moving in with me, so she won't be here much longer," Jacob informs him, arms folded again, looking somewhat smug. He looks ginormous too; my room nowhere near big enough to accommodate his size.

"That's… quick," David replies, glancing from Jacob to me with a confused frown, "You never mentioned-"

"Do you want to go stick the kettle on?" I interrupt, trying to get rid of him for a moment. I think I feel some stern words coming on. David hesitates, looking back and forth between us again and then his slim body sags despondently and he heads for the doors. I gesture towards the far door with a smile, waiting until it's closed firmly behind him before turning my attention to Jacob who's now sat on my sofa bed, leaning back casually.

"Will you just stop it?" I hiss, and suddenly Jacob doesn't look nearly so casual anymore, leaning forward.

"Stop what?" he asks, trying to sound innocent, but I can tell from the guilty look in his eyes that he knows exactly what he's doing.

"This," I reiterate, gesturing towards the kitchen door, "This whole macho, possessive thing. You may as well have dropped your trousers and peed on me." I see Jacob's mouth twitch as he tries to hold back a smile, but when I point my finger at him, eyebrows rising, it disappears again.

"I haven't said anything that isn't true," he says defensively and I sigh. I guess he's right, but still, there's no need to be acting so hostile.

"Can you just try to be nice then, please? David is a really good friend."

"I'll bet," he murmurs, looking down at the floor. My eyebrows go up again, challenging, but this time Jacob doesn't back down, his eyebrows rising too. "He likes you, and trust me; I know how persistent guys can be." We stare at each other, neither relenting, but eventually I feel a smile start to creep through, the corners of my mouth twitching, and when Jacob starts to grin back I'm done for. It's smiles all round.

"It's a good job I love you so much, Jacob Black," I sigh, standing myself in front of him. He wraps his arms around my legs and presses his face into my stomach, his hot breath coming through my shirt and warming my skin, "But please, please be nice."

"I'll try," he mumbles against my tummy. I ruffle his hair with both my hands, smiling down at his head and in revenge he grabs the bottom of my shirt and lifts it, blowing raspberries against my skin and making me squirm and giggle. A cough interrupts us and David is stood in the doorway holding mugs, looking awkward. Jacob just turns his head to look at him, his cheek still pressed against my bare stomach. Somehow I don't think my words really sunk in…

"How'd you take your tea Jason?" David asks, handing me a mug. God, they're both as bad as each other.

"_Jacob_ doesn't like tea," I answer, pulling away from Jacob's grasp and looking disapprovingly at David whose cheeks start to pink as he looks to the floor. "So are you staying long?" I probe, trying to gloss over it, encouraging normal conversation.

"I was hoping you'd show me the Seattle night life," he grins, then takes a sip from his mug. I almost choke on my tea. That was really not what I had in mind for tonight.

"I barely know it myself!" I exclaim, casting a nervous glance at Jacob. He looks horrified.

"All the more reason to get out there," he enthuses. Typical David, ever the party animal. I remember many a day spent at uni with a hangover that he was solely responsible for. As ever though, I just can't seem to turn him down. Maybe it would be fun to let my hair down a bit after all the serious, grown up things that have been going on. Besides, I reckon it'd be pretty fun to see Jacob dancing…

"Up for it?" I ask, posing it as a challenge, knowing Jacob will more than likely step up if I turn it into a competition.

"I'm game," he replies predictably, although the look in his eyes completely contradicts the sentiment of his words.

Oh, this is going to be fun.


	32. Chapter 32

It's 11pm and the club seems to be getting more tightly packed with every minute that passes. Weekend party people, most of which much younger and skinnier than I, start to hit the town in full force. Strobe lighting illuminates more and more bodies, the electro pounding out the speakers making the floor throb beneath my feet as people push past my shoulders to get to the bar. It's noisy, it's hot and I think I'm starting to feel my age. I can't help but keep a mental checklist of what I've been drinking so I can avoid mixing and the inevitable hangover it brings. Seriously, when did I get so responsible?

David is loving it, leaning against the bar, dancing with his shoulders as always, eyes scanning the crowd for pretty women. Occasionally I'll see him wink and flash a smile, but nothing has come to fruition for him yet. He's already had far too much to drink, so I'm presuming he's escaped the debilitating condition that's turned me into a party pooper. Then again, there is Jacob.

He's standing next to me at the bar, looking completely out of his depth. He's about five inches taller than the tallest person on the dance floor, and to make matters worse, because of our impromptu decision he's still wearing just his t-shirt and jeans, making him stick out like a sore thumb. His obvious lack of belonging doesn't seem to put off the ladies though. Just looking up and down the bar now I can see a group of five women staring at him, glancing from his biceps to his face and then giggling and whispering to each other. Poor Jacob doesn't seem to notice, he's too busy nursing the bottle in his hand, expression glum.

"Are you okay?" I call over the music, tugging on his arm to get his attention. He looks down at me, forcing a little smile.

"Just not really my scene," he shouts back. I nod understandingly, giving his arm a little squeeze and he leans down and places a soft kiss on my lips. Ugh, he tastes like beer. I keep him close though, resting my forehead against his, hands on his cheeks.

"That'll keep the wolves at bay for a while," I mutter to myself before reluctantly releasing him so he can stand up straight. He smiles quizzically at me then glances around us, meeting the eyes of the staring girls who immediately blush and turn away, laughing. I see his mouth turn into a little 'oh' and then he turns back, looking pleased. When I roll my eyes I feel Jacob's hand drift down from my back and onto my bum, giving it playful squeeze which I presume is meant to be reassuring. I still bat his away his hand, though, with a smile and a mock disapproving gaze.

David shuffles his way through the crowd to us, all smiles, handing both Jacob and myself a drink as we shout our thanks at him.

"You guys gonna come dance?" he asks, already stepping from foot to foot in his tiny amount of floor space. I'm feeling pleasantly tipsy enough to have a dance without caring too much if I embarrass myself, but as I look up to Jacob at my side he's looking... well, reluctant isn't even the word. I try to grin in encouragement, but he's not having any of it.

"You go ahead," he tells me, taking my drink then gently pushing me forward by the small of my back.

"Not hopping onto the good foot Jake?" David grins, taking me by the hand. Jacob doesn't reply, he just settles for glaring at my hand in David's, then turns away to the bar, downing the rest of the bottle.

David doesn't give me much chance to change my mind. In less than a second he's pulling me through the crowds, singing along to the music at the top of his lungs, and then we're on the dance floor and we're surrounded by people as we start to move. I'd forgotten how much rhythm David has. His moves aren't exactly spectacular, there's a lot of gesticulating, a lot of jumping about, but he seems to know almost every word to every song and the fact he's having so much fun means that the overall effect is very charismatic. I just try to keep up. I wish I wasn't so out of touch with the clubbing scene, I'm pretty sure I was quite the mover too, once. Now I'm just very aware of the burn on the balls of my feet. I knew these heels were a bad choice.

"Come on Rossie, I know you can do better than this!" David yells, grabbing me by the hand and spinning me on the spot. I laugh, letting him pull me about, twisting and turning on the floor, and when he lets me go the alcohol in my system makes my vision sway a little before it stills and David is smiling at me. He's right, I can't dance in these stupid shoes. I slip them off, holding them instead, and the feeling of having my feet flat on the floor is just bliss. I start to bounce with him, free hand up in the air, letting the trance music take me and move my body without a care for how ridiculous I might look.

I'm not sure how long we're dancing, because to be honest all the songs sound more or less the same, but at some point David leans in close to me and yells,

"I think I'm starting to approve of your boyfriend." I rise my eyebrows questioningly at him and David looks pointedly back to the bar, directing my attention.

I spot Jacob right away thanks to his massive size, but it surprises me when I see two women stood in front of him, both wearing pretty dresses and stiletto heels. The blonde reaches out and touches his arm, and I feel jealously start to rear it's ugly head inside of me. I'm just about to march over there when David grabs my arm and holds me back, despite my frown.

"Give him a minute," he calls over the music. What does her mean, give it a minute? That bimbo is all over him. She steps in closer, almost pressed right to his chest and I yank my arm away, fire burning in my stomach.

Then I see Jacob take her by the arms and lift her from the ground and awkwardly moving her away, as far from himself as his reach allows, shaking his head repeatedly while he says something. I can't help but smile. I hadn't even looked at Jacob's response because I'd been to caught up in her moves, but he looks utterly disinterested and almost embarrassed by all the attention. Our eyes meet as the girls turn away, scowling and giving Jacob filthy looks that he doesn't see; he's far too busy giving me a full beam smile. I grin right back at him, sending him a little wave before turning back to David, feeling stupidly happy.

"I don't know where you found him Ros, and how you've managed to force yourself into his house in barely any time at all," he says, leaning close to my ear so I can hear him speak, "But he seems nice. Well, no, I lie, he's been a complete jerk to anyone else with a penis. But to you he's really nice." He moves away, giving me the thumbs up.

"Jacob just thinks you've got a thing for me," I call out, and David crumbles into laughter that I can't hear past the music.

"Oh god, no!" he exclaims, still laughing. I start to pout my bottom lip, pretending to be really hurt. David holds out his hand defensively, leaning in again. "Hey, Ros, we all know you got your fair share of game back in the day." I scowl and smack his chest gently.

"You're digging yourself in deeper here Dave!"

"I just mean you're more like a sister or something. It's not that I think you're gross, but the thought of you and I... doing... that," he pulls a stupid face, grimacing, "No thanks, too weird." We both laugh as I hug him tightly. He's right, it'd just be strange, I've never looked at David as anything more than a slightly irritating, party hard, over protective brother. When I pull away David nods towards the bar again. "You better take him home, he looks like he's about to cry," he shouts as I turn. He's over exaggerating a little, but Jacob's morale is definitely flagging, his mouth turned down into a grimace. Even the girls are ignoring him now.

"Will you be okay on your own?"

"Sure I will, there are plenty of pretty girls here just begging to give me a place to stay for the night," he winks. I think it's probably best Jacob and David don't spend too much time together, the combination of both their egos might make the world start to implode.

"Thank you for coming to see if I was okay," I tell him gratefully, giving him one last hug.

"Any time," he smiles and then pulls away, waving and dancing away into the crowd, thrusting his hips. I wave back, laughing, until he disappears between the bodies and then push my way back through the crowd to Jacob. As soon as I'm within reach Jacob takes hold of my waist and pulls me close, nestling his face into my hair as I wrap my arms around him.

"Want to go home?" I ask, smiling when I feel him nod furiously against the top of my head. He takes hold of my hand and uses his size to cut a straight path right to the door and out, not stopping to look back or ask about David and whether he's okay.

"Thank God," he sighs, his pace finally starting to slow when we're a block away. His whole demeanor seems to relax, his shoulders sagging as we walk.

"You really hated every second of that didn't you?" I ask, feeling a little guilty. If I'd have realised that he hated it quite so much we needn't have stayed so long.

"Put it this way, before tonight I realised I'd never given much thought to the concept of hell." He looks down at me with a crooked smile and I can't help but laugh, even though I feel bad. I see him glance at the heels in my hand and then a split second layer he's swept me up into his arms to carry me. "You'll hurt your feet," he scolds, "But I'm glad you had a good time, even if you were dancing with David and not me."

"My feet are already ruined," I reply, then yawn and lean my head against Jacob's chest, absorbing his body heat. "Dave thought the idea of him having a crush on me was hilarious by the way." Jacob scoffs, still looking straight ahead. "And he's given his approval, he thinks you're very nice to me."

"Damn straight, he should do after that torture."

"I think it was more your gallant fending off of the many rabid females that impressed him," I reply sleepily. He plants a gentle kiss on the top of my head as I close my eyes, but then gives me a little wiggle in his arms to wake me again.

"We're almost home, don't go to sleep yet," he whispers down to me, "I was hoping for a reward for being so good." That wakes me up alright. I look up at him to see him grinning cheekily, his eyes twinkling. Oh, my sweet, insatiable Jacob. Will I ever be able to deny you?

Jacob seems to pick up the pace then, practically jogging the rest of the way home until he places me gently onto the doorstep and I start to rummage in my purse for my keys. He's kissing the back of my neck greedily, hands grasping at my waist but suddenly, as I turn the lock, Jacob's whole body seems to tense behind me.

"We need to go, now," he growls, taking hold of my arm and trying to pull me away.

"Jacob what's wrong?" I ask, my heart starting to race at his panicked expression. I look all around us, trying to figure out what's got him so spooked as he continues to tug at my arm. I think it's only his fear of hurting me that's keeping me on the doorstep. I hear the apartment door click open and Jacob's face crumbles into defeat as he looks at whoever is behind me, and when I turn I'm met by the pretty face of a girl in her late teens with auburn hair, a heart shaped face and large doe-eyes, the colour of molten gold.

"Welcome home," she smiles. The sound of her voice makes all my hairs stand on end, instantly nauseous, my stomach doing rolls inside of me.

"Hello Renesmee."


	33. Chapter 33

"Well come on, come on in, no good just standing there on the doorstep," she grins, sounding far too jovial as she stands back from the door and gestures towards _my _apartment. For the lack of a better idea of what to do, I end up coming inside, watching her warily. The lock on my apartment door is broken; she must have forced her way inside. My stomach starts to broil with anger at her nerve, all my skin tingling madly, but I know that's what she wants. She wants some sort of reaction from me so she can eat me in self defence, or something. I'll be damned if I'll give her anything she wants tonight.

"Where's my hello hug Jacob?" I hear her ask, tone pleasant enough, still out in the hallway. When I look back Jacob is still stood, hunched and shaking madly, in the doorway, forcing himself to look at the floor.

"Jake," I call, offering out my hand, "Come inside. I won't let you lose control, I promise." I see the slightest nod of his head and then he makes his way inside, slow and cautious, avoiding Renesmee completely, still looking at the ground until he gets to me. When our eyes meet, as he stands close to my side and wraps his arms around me, I can see that he's in pain. Just having her here and trying to resist is agony for him.

"So, you're Rosalie," she begins as she shuts the apartment door, still relentlessly pleasant. She looks us both up and down and then wanders through my small room, inspecting the walls. Occasionally she'll glance back to Jacob but he won't make eye contact, he keeps his forehead pressed down against the top of my head, eyes closed. She doesn't look like anything special. She's stunning, yes, her peachy skin completely flawless. She's not what I imagined a vampire to be - even a half vampire. Where's the fangs? The pale skin?

"What do you want?" I ask abruptly. There's really no point in pretending to be friendly, I want her out of my house and I don't care if she knows it.

"This is cute, really," she comments, her tone mocking as she takes a seat on the sofa bed and crosses her legs, "It's like you're some little human pet that he's saving from the pound." She looks pointedly around the room again, smile sly. I feel Jacob begin to vibrate against me again, his fingers digging into my waist so hard that it hurts, angered by her words. If it weren't for the fact that I don't want to give her the satisfaction I'd be yelling by now.

"You're half human, Jacob told me," I retort and she looks momentarily disgusted, rolling her eyes.

"Please, don't remind me," she scoffs, "I'm just glad I never had to put up with being that weak and pathetic." Another pointed look. I grit my teeth, squeezing back on Jacob's arms and refuse to reply. She seems to give up on me, turning her attention back to Jacob instead, knowing his vulnerability. "What's wrong Jacob?" she asks softly, getting up from the sofa and moving silently to stand behind him. I feel her hands place just above mine on Jacob's sides and his shaking becomes even more erratic, his jaw clenching. "Struggling?"

"Take your hands off him," I growl, struggling to keep my composure almost as much as Jacob, glaring back at her golden eyes over his shoulder.

"Can't speak for yourself Jake?" she whispers, mocking. Neither of us say anything, Jacob just keeps his eyes screwed tight as he shakes, and I continue my stony glare. Finally she lets out a frustrated sigh and backs off, pleasant demeanor gone. "Look what she's turned you into!" she exclaims, "Some pathetic little lapdog. So much for noble Quiluete bloodlines." If I didn't know better I'd think she was trying to goad him on purpose. Of course she is, it's no worry for her if he goes furry on us now. His animal loyalty will lie with her.

Jacob's shaking becomes even more ferocious, so much so that as I grip onto him, taking a cheek in each hand, I can feel my own teeth chattering. His eyes open just enough to blaze back at me, face crumpled in a deep frown. He's fighting so hard, so quietly inside. My heart hurts for him.

"It's okay, it's alright," I reassure, "Stay with me. We'll do this together. I know you're hurting." I hear Renesmee scoff, but I stay with Jacob, ignoring her completely, trying to maintain eye contact. It's more than denying her what she wants, it's a matter life and death.

"I'm not sure if you're brave or just stupid."

"I have every faith in Jacob's self control," I reply, half to her, half to Jacob, "I love you, Jacob Black, only you," I repeat like I said once before and I think I see the tiniest of smiles appear at the corners of his mouth before they crumple away again from the pain.

"He'll always love me more," she states, matter of fact. I finally turn my head to face her again and she's stood with her arms folded, smug. It takes all my self control to not attack her myself. "No matter what he tells you, or what you tell yourself, Jacob belongs with me. He's stronger with me, he'd never have to hold back with me. Look at what you're doing to him," she says, gesturing to his pained expression.

For a split second she almost has me, guilt welling up as I look at him, feel him convulse against me. But then I remember all the pain she's put him through, all the agony of rejection, and I don't feel so bad anymore.

"Jacob's chosen to be with me, knowing that it's painful, knowing that it'll be hard. The hurt you've put him through has never been his choice," I tell her calmly. My simple statement seems to enrage her, and for the first time she actually looks and sounds like her vampire half. Her lips curl back exposing bright white teeth and she hisses wildly, her posture becoming feline as she rushes at me, pulling me from Jacob's arms and slamming me against the wall, her hands tight around my wrists. Jacob can't seem to respond fast enough, too absorbed with the battle inside his head to help me.

"You think you know all about us," she rages, "Jacob was there when I was BORN. He watched me grow up, he spent every moment of every day for eight years by my side, and I won't let you take him away from me!" I try to seem brave, refusing to look away from her eyes, not struggling, just standing very still but inside I'm completely petrified. How far can you push a vegetarian vampire these days?

"You never even wanted him until I arrived!" I shout back at her, unable to stop myself. "He deserves better than you, better than just picking up the pieces, better than just second best!"

Suddenly, her rage melts away into a serene smile and she lets go of one of my arms, lifting her hand towards my face instead. She has a sly look in her eyes, her smile too smug to be genuine, and I'm even more afraid than before, my heart pounding in my chest. Maybe I pushed too far.

"Maybe I should show you instead," she says innocently, and just before her palm makes contact with my cheek I hear Jacob shout out in protest.

My vision blurs, patterns of blue and grey, and then suddenly I'm looking up at Jacob who's staring down at me in complete adoration. He places his finger in my tiny, infant hand, and then the image changes. I'm by a river back, hopping across wet boulders and I hear Jacob call my name. No, not my name. He rushes to me and picks me up in his arms, holding me close, telling me that I need to careful, that he doesn't know what he'd do without me.

I'm crying, my face in my hands, and someone touches my cheek. Jacob is there, smiling kindly, telling me how special I am, and how the kids at school just make fun of me because they're jealous of my pretty gold eyes. Crying again into bigger hands, Jacob's large arms around me, whispers that I'm loved and that I'll never be alone, that he'll always be there for me. And then just image after image of Jacob, distraught, hurting, in pain, frowning, tears in his eyes, holding his chest like he's trying to stop his heart from falling out. Oh god, make it stop.

Then, as if my prayer has been answered, the images suddenly disappear and I see my own room again, clutching my chest and gasping for breath. Jacob is stood in front of me, breathing hard, still shaking all over, and when I look to the side I see Renesmee looking shell shocked, stumbling as if she's just been pushed. In fact, I think she has. Memories, they were all Renesmee's memories of Jacob. She was right, he was there right from the start. How is that even possible? There was so much love, he cared for her so much. I could feel it even through my false body... how could she put him through so much pain?

Showing me all those images hadn't had her desired effect though. I know she meant to demoralise me, to make me realise that he'd never look at me that way, that he'd never hold me the same or be so loving. It'd be a great tactic, if it weren't the fact that I see those things from him every single day.

"I've got some things I'd like to show you, Nessie," I pant out, grinning back at her, revelling in her furious expression. "Sides of Jacob you've never seen before."

The repercussions of assaulting his imprint suddenly seem to take hold of Jacob and he recoils in pain, bent over double and crying out, folding his arms around himself. As soon as he's moved from his defensive spot in front of me Renesmee takes hold again, this time by the throat, her eyes flashing wildly. I can barely breathe as her hand grips like a stone vice, but all I can focus on is Jacob. He's fallen on the bed, writhing in pain because of the internal struggle, crying out and convulsing intermittently.

"One bite is all it would take," she growls, teeth flashing again, "Maybe I should change you, make you immortal." I try to shake my head, to speak, to do anything, but I can't. Her grip is too tight. "And then when your blood lust starts raging, Jacob and his pack will have to put you down. How poetically tragic." She stops, taking a moment to grin in satisfaction. "If I don't accidentally kill you along the way, of course. I'm not as well practiced as Carlisle." I feel a bead of sweat run down my back, my legs trembling, paralysed by fear as I look into her unnatural eyes. She's fallen off the wagon, and there's no one here to stop her.

"Put her down, Renesmee."


	34. Author's note

**Hey guys, **

**No, this isn't an update, and for that I'm really sorry! I thought I better just pop on and reassure you all that I am still here and fully intending to carry on with this story - it's just that for the next week and a half or so I'm really having to knuckle down and focus on my uni work, which means that Rosalie and Jacob will unfortunately have to suffer on just a little longer. **

**Thanks for your patience :) **

**Much love, **

**Steph xxx**


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